Beth A. Fleisher
Prompt 5: Choose a picture and use it as the jumping off point for a poem.
Sunrise on Spirit Mountain
I open my eyes to the first glimmers of daylight,
reveling in the morning stillness,
that soft blue time before the world awakens.
He is standing in my line of sight,
maybe a half-dozen yards away,
one foot resting on a log,
Butterfly Flute in his hands,
Peace encircles him.
As I watch, keeping the silence,
Grampa Sun comes up slowly over the mountain,
silvery gold glinting the tops of Douglas fir trees.
He puts the flute to his lips and blows his breath
into the flute, which sings out a flute song so pure
that all our relatives — birds, deer, squirrels, butterflies —
stop their morning rituals to listen.
The flute song,
born of this morning,
born for this moment,
creates perfect harmony between us and all things.
Flute song calls us to walk in beauty,
to love fully,
to forgive freely.
to help each other,
to dream new dreams.
As Grampa Sun is fully revealed, the flute song ends,
he lowers the Butterfly Flute,
and walks silently back to our sleeping bag.
I open my eyes and I am home in my bed.