Steep Trail

I sat beside the lake  
and noticed  
the natter of juncos  
the lap of water  
	the brush of pine needles.  
   
I walked between the trees  
and inhaled  
the evergreen air  
the ash from afar  
	the mountain breeze.  
   
I climbed the steep trail  
and admired  
the quiet peace  
the twisted roots  
the mosses and  
	liverworts.  
   
I think back through the years and  
imagine those before me  
who sat beside the lake, and  
walked between the trees, and  
	climbed the same steep trail.  
  
I marvel at the changes and  
the fine grains of sifting sands,  
the moments that arise,
quickly, only to perish
	once again.

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