Breathe

On By ruckwarriorIn poem, PoetryLeave a comment

I want to feel the cold on my neck, 

The grass beneath my feet,

And God’s breath in my ears. 

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Dreams

On By ruckwarriorIn poem, Poetry, wilderness, WritingLeave a comment

I’ve dreamt about that cabin in the woods; 

A fortress from the hurlings of societies’ wails, 

Sheltered in the encampment of timber and mercy,

I found my soul in the mesas, 

Upon the ruins and crevices of time, 

I journeyed up the glacial cliffs, 

Where warmth made love to the creases of age. 

Photo by Perry Kibler on Unsplash

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An Introverted Excursion

On By ruckwarriorIn journal, Life, outdoors, poem, Poetry, War Poems, wilderness, Writing2 Comments

I awaken to the dew of nothingness;

Beyond the seas of tragedy,

I enter the plane of refuge;

No longer chased by the steads of chaos,

I am still as I ride onto the carpet of the winds;

Currents subdued by chance,

I dive in solitude,

But not from a movement of aloneness, 

But of gratitude. 

Photo credit: Photo by Jp Valery on Unsplash

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Revival

On By ruckwarriorIn journal, Life, outdoors, poem, Poetry, wilderness, WritingLeave a comment

I yearn for the freedom of the road,

Where the Airstream pumps the beat of my heart, 

The shadows of the landscape, 

Lights the caverns of serendipity, 

Rolling through its divine,

I feel it’s allure,

Taunting and insightful,

Its lips pursed stealing a kiss from my obedience.

Love is in the details, 

Hidden and coy,

But intense like the breath of God.

The sun serenades through the summit,

As the dusky sky calls to the nocturnal,

Boots cozied by the fire,

Releasing the stories it holds,

From the rambunctious of asphalt,

To the headiness of backwoods dirt,

Forgiveness drifts to where only the stars can see,

Loitering in contemplation, 

The moons winks in revival.

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Briars

On By ruckwarriorIn journal, Mindfulness, outdoors, poem, Poetry2 Comments

I’ve spent months in daydreams,
Where the mountain brooks flow through timbers,
I longed for the briars to pierce my skin,
To know that I am alive with cadence,
Lullabied by the breath of morning,
Stirred by the reflective sighing dawn,
I came to know,
Men were made to be wild,
With heightened senses,
Erasing the hue of artificial smells,
As dew washes away the contempt of solitude,
I am free where only the eagles can see me,
Laid bare by winter’s afternoon,
Drifts of capes dances in the background of fire,
The wood burns as deep as my soul,
As my breath labors for a full moon,
I swear at daybreak,
For I wasn’t done drifting in dunes,
I search for gratitude in the tension of remembrance,
As the new day incubates, the cauldron of memories.

Photo by Catalin Dragu on Unsplash