A break in winter’s indisposition,
my boots back on the trail, slow
steady climb to Rattlesnake Lodge.
Satisfaction ripples through my body,
easing the stress of everyday worry.
I pause and lean into the warmth
of ancient boulders surrounded
by a forest of silent sentinels –
unbending hardwoods, scattered
stands of pines, snarled branches
of mountain laurel, rhododendron green,
snapped limbs, ample reminders
of the power of wind, plight of rock falls,
telling marks of splintered bark
what’s your winter story?
Dormant stillness belies determination;
even the resting roots are reaching for
nourishment before spring buds open.
How About That 
Hi, Marion, I’ve enjoyed reading your poems and other mini-essays on your blog. Can’t wait to get together again. Sure hope you are coming to Katerina’s workshop next week. Hard to imagine it is so soon. I am trying to get in gear to write on the prompt about metanoia. Fiction: no way! Just finished my article for the April issue of WNC Woman. Wish you would start sending things in to them! See you soon! Sue
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See you at Valle Crucis. Just finished a second draft on metanoia. Laughed at your comment on fiction.
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I need constant reminders of the importance of the dormant stillness. Thanks for this.
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Thank you visiting!
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