Mountain Mornings Poem by Reginald Reid

Have you been there in the early morning
when the sun has been unseen the longest time,
when the air is coldest and you must leave your bed
while birds are waking and calling?

Have you been there in that moody morning mist
when the air is crisp and moist,
when all around is shining in the half light
wet without the night's rain?

Have you been there in that waking sloth
when trees reach out their tendrils from shady forms,
when their leaves float to the ground wet but dead,
wasted to compost in scattered sylvan settings?

Have you been there as the milky sun suggests a day
when change will herald new life and beauty,
when that which was concealed will be revealed
wild and serene at once?

Have you been there when the stillness shouts,
when distance is unknown, immeasurable
when self is all that is understood,
when even this is never fully known?

Have you been there when the voice within you asks
when did all this begin,
when will I understand,
when will I know?

Have you been there when the mist silently slips away,
when hidden treasures are revealed,
when excitement builds into crescendo,
when exploding colour and form announce reality?

Have you been there walking in the mist
when you watched the world as it watched you,
when words unspoken clothed you in joy,
when all completeness there embraced you?