The Mountains are my home
My proving ground
My place of Zen
thin air
crisp, light snow
like sugar
I mount my skis
And let go.
Through shoots of powder
(my head is rushing)
And slits between trees
I fly through the forest
And set my mind free
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1 comment:
aw you didnt use flits.
but i really enjoy this
your love for the mountain is beyond any..
-mandy
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