Cycle

It is a meditative practice
Physical meditation
Focus on the now for hours
Hours speed by with the world
Natural world
Patience, solitude
Flowers grow by the thousands
In forgotten ditches
Animals startled
Silent approach
Sun beats down at high noon
Heat radiates up from baked asphalt
Cracks spread
Threaten to grab tires
Threaten to throw you off
Lonely trees grow along cornfields
Shady spots to nap
To eat nuts and chocolate
To stare up at the impossible blue sky
Life passes, no deadlines
Only dandelions fields of youth

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, April 2017

Summer Wind

Early summer
Not too hot
Strong breeze
From the south
Crosses the wide river

Through the trees
Into the window
Billowing curtains
Dancing shadows
Beige pill carpet

Wind on water
Wind swept leaves
Shimmering cacophony
Natural windchimes
Rush

Liquid against liquid
Liquid against life
Life must bend
Or break and snap
Against the invisible

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, February 2017

12th Month

Light from the full moon reflects blue off the crystalline ground.
In the distance, I see black soiled hillsides where
Construction has ripped the trees from the ground

Leaving the woodland creatures to find homes elsewhere
In our white dusted trees, in the forests to the west
I walk up the hill through the drifts and pass the last in a line
Homes that glow warmly from the strings of carefully placed lights

There in soft cold air stands a stag, statuesque, and unreal
As I stop, we assess each other for a few moments

Why should this majestic beast bearing
A full rack of horns ever fear me
So weak and slow by his comparison

As I continue on, his tail raises its warning flag
He leaps through the yards
Through what is left of his former forest home

I am left alone in the night
My hot breath billowing white clouds around me

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, December 2003