How far away are the mountains?

I see them rise up over the horizon.
What can I do to bring them nearer?

When I was young, I would climb the hills.
Moss and lichen were spreading slowly.
I watched them prepare the stones for life.

When I came down from the hilltop,
I walked past a tiny stream.
It gurgled noisily beside the path.
I watch it disappear beneath the trees.

I’ll be getting ready for a vacation soon.
I want to see past the mountains.
As I plan my days, I will be creative.
The mundane is surrounding me here.
I want to explore the world.

W. Wayne B.

New poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb

© 2015 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Full Moon over the Glacier. By www.david baxendale.com [Image license]