a poem about the North Carolina Mountains
Deep in the North Carolina wood
nestled between steep mountainous
rises, a gorge, through which run
waters, crisp and cool and clean.
A bench waits there for my soul.
The waters run clear, cross rock
and moss, with dribbling sounds
and meandering thoughts of the
distant seas. The canopy hangs over.
Shady oasis of quietude waits
for me to climb into its folds.
A genteel hug whispered through green
to wrap me up in wonder once again.
A hike for a day, I must go.
I’ll climb on the rock, spread
my wings to gather the sun
rub my toes in sphagnum
hear the cool-water melody flow…
Oh, Carolina, you are good to my soul.
Let the breeze sway and creak in the pines!
May the babbling waters find their gentle way
and the mockingbirds ramble song to song,
let your nature carry its secrets on.
Christina M. Ward 
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