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Array
(
[sid] => 156299
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => This is Yellowstone
[time] => 2009-12-28 11:18:03
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => There is a place on the rugged map of time Where centuries pass by like minutes Where hours fall like rain Just drops of seconds washed away Gone unnoticed in nature’s yesterday It is marked unknown with an arrow north As you step out of your car into its beaten path Where few have ventured before Follow the wind that blows with a laugh Knowing that forever Is a wheel turning in a flash The graveyard of scorched timber Stands like scarecrows in a garden of trees The forest breathes deeply And swallows the flames that once consumed it The scars of fires past cling to the earth Like babies to a mother’s breast The volcanic ash crumbles between your toes With a warmth that burned long before your birth The vast wilderness encompasses you Making small of everything you know The crooked tooth of a mountain grins at you Tasting weather its vastness spreads For it is earth, Worn and torn but not destroyed It ages on while you stare in awe Lost in the splendor, The decadence of time’s open window Stares straight through you All knowing and standing in the shadows Of life’s omnipotence The last day of September The snow comes falling down Like angels banished from the kingdom Never to fly the sky again A reminder of winter’s journey That comes with the wind And leaves a bruise Cold upon your skin For every day is a challenge As nature does what it wants to Lose yourself in the valley Feel yourself but a single blade In a field of gorgeous green Blossom in the purples, reds, and yellows As the flowers grow countless Endless in the substance of what was For you are but a speck In the now of what is Every thing comes together into one As Yellowstone stands above Face to face with beauty’s abyss You reach to her with arms open Searching for the purpose, the meaning of creation You know there is something beyond you That you cannot explain Words are lost as they become useless And slipped on the tip of your tongue You cannot begin to understand This craggy land carved long before There was a single thought of man [comments] => 2 [counter] => 180 [topic] => 43 [informant] => zedwards [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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