A Trail Poem by Randall Vanlandingham

A twisted path, in shaded green, my feet began to follow.
Rolling waters, beside a trail, marked ways that I explored.
Scents of pine and fresh new flowers pulled gently at my soul;
My ears renewed by sounds of squirrel-chucks,
And melodic forest tunes.

A knotty staff, in leathered hands, reached out to feel before me,
Shifting levels of moistened earth, rain-smoothed and marked by hooves
Past tall cliffs, rocks overhanging, winds whistling haunting chords,
Beyond charred wood remains, in fire-pits,
Hunters', trappers', lands long gone.

Along, at last, in realms unknown, a path from ancients' stories,
Leather leggings push briars aside, through webs of matted vines,
Into depths of darker forests, bold senses taking hold,
From sounds of deep and new lands forward,
Sparked imaginations bloom.

Alone, a vast expanse of dreams, are mine, a bold explorer,
Yet, bolder less-than first displayed, revealed a reverent pose.
Hints of danger, distant rumblings, clues tensed by clue-less mind,
Resulting in a sharper focus,
Walked upon a sleeping fawn.

A growl, a claw, a slash, a bite, anticipated horrors,
Were not compared to that grand sight, it leapt, that hart, my heart,
So thus crept my sense of loving, danger, nature, God's world.
This path unleashed a sense of longing
For this trail, that trail, a trail.