Stand at the edge
Of a granite place
So high that trees
Quit growing in the
Face of all that beauty.
Put your trust in
Something that you
Cannot see,
Or touch or hear,
A thing that you only
Can feel, can contact
With the fingertips of
Your heart.
Vow to take
This risk, this gamble,
Putting yourself
Firmly in the center
Of a nation filled
With truth and lacking
The anguish that will
No longer menace you.
Stand at the edge,
Take this chance for
Flight, to soar in the wake
Of eagles, to glide
In these currents of love.
If you enjoyed this post, please “rate” it.
Text Copyright © 2011 CoyoteOldStyle.
All Rights Reserved.


Salon.com
Comments
It sure can be the pits @ O.S.?
I saw that I good bumped two.
On the Open Salon Feed Oho!
We can all aspire to leave the`
`
dark abyss. I will read 3 X's.
I hope the Obits ref O.S. sirs.
Leave out the cross-dressing.
Obit can omit Kerry's habits.
If he is gravely ill we can pray.
Why does he prey and stoop?
I am bewildered as Santa C..
Con C. may hire a good cook?
We order mashed butter-potato.
I hope this comment goes away.
I get melancholy if I 'hit' button
2
or
3 X's
Kerry?
katydid?
no blame
Katy and
CoyoteOldStyle.
I feel like howling.
I go to Shepardstown.
I might get a gal of milk.
I barter greens for milk.
Goat milk helps me sleep.
Let's dream we on `Summit.
Rated.
Art, it's always good to see you and I agree that we should dream on.
Procopius, thank you so much. It's a rare and lovely place to be.
Scylla, I will admit that I have yet to get to the top of Mount Washington. I tried to take the Cog Railway for my 50th birthday but the traffic gods conspired against me and I've yet to make another expedition. Maybe soon when the fall colors arrive...