Mountain Path to Peace

There is a place the city will

Never touch

Where there are no sounds

Only the wind through the

Yellow grasses and

Old evergreen trees dotting the landscape

The mountains.


I have been to this place often

When codes typed upon a glowing screen

Do not entrap me in their lifeless ways.

A fast paced life forgotten

In the bluebird's high pitched



I Work in this place not for money

For pleasure

In the scents of day lilies and roses flanking

The old stone foundation,

In pure white clouds tickling the peaks of mountains

Vanishing in the early morning haze,

In the swirls of sawdust and roaring of chain

Clearing a path

To peace.