By Andrew R. Duckworth
The clouds pass by in the Santa Fe sky,
As the moon peaks out to say goodnight,
And the trees grant its viewing
If only for a time,
A moment to pass
For the stars to shine.
Snow trickles in from the mountain air.
Mysteries wait to be uncovered there,
But only for another journey someday
When a rugged man can find his way
Up a mountain trail where a journey waits.
Journeys come in all directions
And one surely can’t lose the sight
Of a calling up a mountain trail
Under the moon’s ragged light.
Someday, I’ll walk those sacred steps,
Those that lead to the mountain tops
And find a new light not yet seen
By foreign shoes in a place serene.
The Writings of Andrew R. Duckworth 