Echoes of Appalachia

Through ancient ridges draped in blue,
I wind my way on trails worn true.
Where rhododendrons paint the way
With pink and white on summer’s day.

The valley stretches far below,
A patchwork quilt of green and gold.
While hawks drift lazy circles high,
Their shadows dancing cross the sky.

Each footfall brings a gentle peace,
As worldly troubles find release.
The mountain air, so crisp and clean,
Whispers stories yet unseen.

Along the path, a stream flows clear,
Its music drawing creatures near.
A gentle doe with watchful eyes
Pauses briefly, then softly flies.

The summit calls with patient voice,
Each step upward now a choice.
Until at last the view unfolds—
Mountains stacked in purple blues,

Rolling endlessly in hues
That change with every passing cloud,
Nature’s majesty allowed
To simply be, while I stand proud

Upon this peak, my spirit bowed
By beauty that no words contain,
A peace I’ll climb to find again.

-Tim Carmichael