Excited to breathe the mountain air.
Longing to feel it in my lungs.
Brown rough gravel alive beneath my boots.
As I press on, upwards.

Canopy of trees, broken by the sky.
Moist with morning dew.
Moss clinging to the trees.
This, is life giving life.

Following the trail of the river.
The cold lake water, chills you to the bone.
And drying in the son warms the soul.
Love gaining elevation.

Toes hurt from a steep descalation.
But the sight all change in the other direction.
Making hindsight moot.
Though still taking it on the long ride home.

The glorious anthropamorphic forest
it bores us
the poorest endomorphic tourist
emplores us
but in both of these we miss the trees
often by few degrees with ease
most delights are at night
instead of at the height of life
the inaction of passion
when basking in relaxin
causes a dissodance to resistance
and leaves victims listless

this is to tell daniel i have been here 30 minutes and have nothing but i am trying!

The pen to the paper
Ink spills
The true human nature
Be still

The words start creating
Slow build
Thoughts of love and hating
We feel

The ink slowly drying
Page filled
We're living and dying
So real