Opening My Eyes

The night called out
while I began to focus
my eyes on the darkness
the stars overhead
the sounds of the stream
my eyes, opening, then closing
Along some mountain stream
in an Aspen grove, quaking leaves
the wind in the pines, whispering
the water flows from snows, melting
my aching muscles, resting,
the rocky ground, makes me restless
the warmth, the cold wrestle with each other
my eyes, closing
the water rushes by, while the wind
changes direction
along the water, gathering the leaves
the Aspen, Quaking, shivering
and shaking,
the stars, silent and burning cold,
in the colder moments before the dawn
the reddish glow upon the trees,
while the sky spins around
the North Star, fading
in the morning light,
the dawn, a new day,
I pick myself up
shaking of the nighttime
now being in my bed, warm and soft
as if a cold breeze, blowing
reminded me

of another time…