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Standing on mountain cliffs,
I view the world below me
as if I were God
and not a feeble being
that lies service to the
routine of bound life.

Oh, wolves, will you forgive
me? Will your mother see
the way I have abandoned my
faith, cast away as quickly
as her gracious tides come?

Oh, leaves, do you
remember me? The way
we waltzed when your
silent crisp crept into
the night, have you
forgotten the way my hands feel?

Oh, Mother, will
you receive me?
Humble, I am yearning
to caress the earth
that holds me. I heard
somewhere that only the
moon knows
who have truly loved
thy tender sunrise.

I loved it. A beautiful paean to nature. I am especially impressed with the last sentence - ... only the moon knows who have truly loved thy tender sunrise. It reminds me of ... To experience the miracle of the sunrise one must stand for a time in the darkness.

Well done!!!!

Wow romymaria, thank you for such a beautiful and delicately crafted poem.