These billowing violet peaks
are the mountains my soul remembers,
purple crags
wearing secret mystery
while the sun’s caress
upstages the shadows
that spell history’s wrinkled narrative.
This river valley
carving through the rock faces
has known its share of struggling humble dwellers.
Fences call to the hillside steppes.
Cultivated fields accessorize
the huddled homes
asserting their presence
as if they believe they own the landscape.
But this breathtaking blue-green vista
is the palette of a work-in-progress:
Earth is the canvas.
Nature if the paintbrush.
Yet time is the artist.
