By Willow Taylor


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Where two mountains meet -
beyond the forest, over the lake
and reach for the sky and clouds
that is where I sit to paint;
a thousand myriad vivid greens
or fall's million fiery hues
this is what I see,
this is what I show.
Past the lake and through the wood
to where two mountains meet.
There is no place that exists
that I can see so clearly
that I could touch
where paths run through trees
and flowers bloom 'neath their roots
between the trees across the water, towards these rising peaks
I follow only with my eyes
what lies beyond cannot be seen, except as the other side.


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