Potentilla
A top a
mountain I sat, six thousand feet high
On the
rocks, as I hung my clothes to dry,
I noticed a
beautiful flower nearby
On it, sat a colorful butterfly
It was early
in the day
It was spring in late May
I climbed
the biggest rock I could find
There was a view that would never leave my mind
On the
right, the ravine was steep
In front,
was the ridge, that in my mind I would keep
On the left, lay the valley, green and deep
Down the ravine
I looked, and smiled with delight
I could be a
great eagle in flight
Long I looked, and I was awed by the sight.
The ridge
ran mile after mile
It reminded
me of the lengthy Nile
Slender and long it stretched with style
The valley
was watery and green
A gushing
stream ran in between
Such beauty I had never seen
Slowly I sat
down and lowered my head
Long ago myself I should have fed
It was noon
and the sun was high
Blue as the sea was the clear sky
On a dry
piece of bread I chewed
I looked
down and I was amused
There, a
colony of ants I viewed
They were all for some reason queued.
-------------------------------------------
Rested and strong I got up on my feet,
Packed my
clothes nice and neat
There was
the flower exposed to the heat
The butterfly, had left its majestic seat
The sky
turned dark and gray
On the mountain side the heavy clouds lay
Beside a
rock I had to huddle
Under my feet was already a puddle...
The cold I could no longer bear
In my ears
the wind I could hear
The lightning, it was so very near
I wrapped my
clothes and my body shivered
Around me the fresh grass had withered
From the
wind I tried to hide
It came to
me from every side
In my place I did abide
The
lightning was strong and bright
I was scared
by the flashing light
It turned darkness into daylight
The elements
of nature kept me in fear
But with patience the storm I did bear
The sky
cleared slowly
The ridge I could see barely
Against the
rock I huddled and prayed
Many times
my chances of survival I weighed
For a long
time there I laid
Finally, the rock goodbye I bade.
---------------------------------------------
I got up feeling cold and weary
Of the
mountain I was afraid and leery
There was
the flower, rooted, but looking dreary
The butterfly had flown to a greener prairie
The sky was
crawling with the night
The storm had let up, and gave up the fight
I edged my
way down the trail
My legs felt cold and frail
My body was
wet and weak
The ground
with water did leak
The night on the day was about to peak
The storm
made me feel small and humbled
Slowly down
the path I stumbled
To balance myself, for rocks my hands fumbled
The ground
was wet and felt like clay
Many times
as I stepped, it gave way
But I trudged on without delay
The night
slowly planted its seed
On the day
it started to feed
I could see it grow with speed
I reached
the bottom of the trail
Feeling small, weak, and frail
But the
mountain power I had tamed
And some sort of confidence I had gained
Like the
flower, rooted I wanted to be
But
stronger, maybe like a tree
How clearly
I could see
Like the butterfly, roaming I would be
