The air is cold
the dawn pink and Crisp
Mist still hangs in the air
Beyond which
The snow capped mountain range
Beckons
like Magic waiting to unfold
Sipping steaming hot spiced tea
I Listen to the murmur of leaves
the flight of birds
and to a world that's just waking up
Jacket zipped, helmet clicked
The bike and I get on the road
It stretches out-
a pitch-dark Black River
full of possibilities
The wind rushes by
but it's a Gentle breeze
Compared to the Whirlwind I feel inside
Listening to the Mountains
speaking with the Wisdom of a million years,
I leave the world behind
And breathe Life |
Submission Name: Life
