At 11,000’ in the mountains, there is nothing more deafening than the sound of the eternal present.
As I inhale and exhale, there is a bright light in front of my eyes as the winds carry the clouds away.
Nothing to think or say as I listen to Nature in its purest form.
I hear nothing more than the natural process of life as the water drops fall to the forest floor and in the distant, local fauna make their presence known.
I am nothing more than a mere microphone, quietly listening and recording all of the sounds transpiring around me.
OH, what it is to truly live in the eternal present……..
Alan Stroeve
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem put me on top of a mountain. Edit errors: recording all of the sounds {of which is transpiring around me.} recording all the sounds transpiring around me.