Hearth Stone

Mist and stone

and weathered forests drawn.

Deep green, black and slick

with languid fog.

Sun lit only until grey,

past the dark of night

anointing dawn.


An ocean,

clear as crystal,

vast as sky.

Both indefatigable,

both redolent

and inspired.


What place

defies the morass

for the colorful?

What land sits

so alien,

so primal?


Carved into the basalt

and granite

and slate,

blue/grey lives

sit askance

of the wellspring.


So humble,

so prideful,

so bellicose,

so demure

– dichotomy

under that mountain rock.


Split crag people

defy that normal,

but inspire one more

overture of the tides.


The bay


the mother of all greatness;

a whale song

in the openness.


The mist line

sits upon the mountain,

hiding secrets,

begging for the eye.

An inquiring mind

is beckoned

to do well here.

Fed with mystery,

alive with eons.


The Sun

cooks off the veil,

revealing majesty;

whimsical, self effacing form.

The settlements,

seem sprung from the land,

like colorful fairy caps.

A hidden world

open for discovery.




Sky and stone and water.

Fire and iron.

Love exposed,

as waves and win bear the cliffs.



a hearth stone

for the world.


HG – 2018

Leave a Reply