By the next morning, various phrases had coalesced into the following:
Lost in thoughts of the everyday kind,
I travel a vast and untamed land,
Find hardscrabble purchase as a hill I climb
And pause to rest at the crest.
Before me are valleys I’ve yet to explore
And sunlit mountains under snow-white duvet.
Captured by splendor, I am scarcely aware
My thoughts—and my breath—have been stolen away.
I had mentioned to my friend that I found it difficult to write metaphorically, and not until I finished the poem and read it for the umpteenth time did I realize it could be a metaphor for life as a whole, and each line a metaphor for the various stages in life. My Muse works in strange ways.
Photo courtesy of Bob and Karol Libbey