I trekked miles, exceeded elevations

to get high enough to hear myself think

without the clutter 

day to day distractions.

To be able to look at one thing

and truly see it, for all it’s worth

its purest form.

Mountains stained orange,

defined by rusty veins.

My breath lingers as I exhale

Smoke stacks dance from scattered cabins

I wonder how they live

If their lives are as peaceful as mine

in this moment.

I imagine they wake up,

to sun creeping in split drapes,

the soft creaks of earth shifting beneath oak.

I imagine they say good morning to the trees

and the vast pines smile, and sway back. 

I imagine there is only the sound of the fire, crackling

a pot of tea, whistling.

What I imagine is a want for myself,

tranquility.

But a cabin in the woods cannot stop the mind

from racing, blurring a beautiful forest

into a solid green backdrop.

I climbed 17,000 Ft

to meet my clearest self.