Three Forks

at three forks

The Graywolf rages rushing on,
It’s cleansing flow fast and free
Tumbles through untouched virgin
Forest land.

Water claps and moves along, while
Still and somber on timbered banks
Observing ancients stand indifferent
To the cacophony.

I arrive, put boots to trail
Embarking for a day or two
And enter the forest, eager, joyful,
Born anew.

Leaving all behind, I am greeted
By reverence and calm,
Rhododendrons bloom pink under
The forest canopy.

In my wonder murmuring voices call,
Whispered conversations between old friends
Heard but not understood,
Always just ahead but never there.

Leaving river voices far behind
The trail climbs through Maynard’s Burn,
Paintbrush red replaces shadow
Trees part like the sea revealing sun.

A welcome respite provides views
Of vast river valleys and forest land,
Breezes descend from glacial ridges,
Silent birds coast and float.

Waning day presses on and I
Return back down to forest floor
Where light and shadow stream and dance
And river voices join once more.

Ahead a dim forest hollow
Invites the weary soul to rest
Where sun rises late, retires early,
And time stands still yet rushes on.

The lulling din froths and foams
Agitated at its confluence,
Graywolf, Grand, and Cameron
Meet and dance.

For all the noise it is silent and still,
I feel at home, at peace,
The world is gone and I alone commune,
Eager, joyful, born anew.

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