Drowsy eyes closed, listening intently,

I hear the brook, muddy waters from melting snow

cascading over rocks in its hurry to the sea.

Flies buzzing around me, and in the deep forest,

summer birds chittering, calling to each other,

warning of strangers.

Strong, old trees stand sentinel, protect me, surrounding my space.

Their presence quiets the turmoil inside me.

I take pictures of tan, fairy mushrooms ... now in shadow,

now with lacy light filtering through the branches.

From down the mountain the sound of children's voices

playing in the almost melted snow.

Sitting in this peaceful place, I am serene, thankful

absorbing into my soul the beauty and the energy of Mt. Shasta.

The breeze flows over me, playfully, teasing me.

Shadows gracefully move across limb littered grounds

as the sun treks across the heavens.

Once more, I breathe in the stillness.

Brilliant chartreuse moss adorns the trees, sunlight spilling around like jewels.

Emerald healing rays surround my heart and penetrate my spirit.

In this magic moment, Shasta makes me whole.

 by Kay Ekwall