North's Top Poem by Sebastian Sandok

Out the door and down the road a ways,
dreams tend to roll over with morning cirrus,
frosting over the ancient silk roads of the Himalayas.

Mounting the cobble stone paths in Maine,
sauntering on into the hundred mile wilderness,
perhaps to scale the steps of Katadyn.

The twilight of sun and moon, harbors
gardens of hope and free spirit amongst all else,
Upon leafs of nostalgia dew holds firm grip.

It is in this mysterious forest,
Skewed from the path, the trodden way,
That dreams as vaporous as such will hold deep glory.

Where man can no longer breathe without the gods,
as snow and wind completely overwhelm him,
he faces his complex, profound life.

In this brief moment of chaos-authenticity,
he will be left above all other sentient beings,
perched within arms reach of the stones summit.