Mountain Road

Frosted mountain-trail, be-misted heights.
As child steps from the safety of his vehicle
into the cold and fresh forest air
A sight creeps into sleep-shod view

The asphalt scar cannot detain her beauty --
The wonder of the outside world, whose mist
enraptures soul while sheathing mountain trees
in white -- those eucalypts that stretch into the sky.

Seen as horizontal shapes that peak
so barely through the filmy veil of grey.
And yet below precipitation's cloak,
Floral towers oft are struck with axe.

Yet children's eyes are shielded from the plight
of lumberjacks and sawmills down below,
Hidden far from Eildon's road and youthful eyes
that see, but do not see, and will not see

Until the lines of age are wrought, and cheeks
are set with manly light, and eyes are
drowned and seasoned with salt, and heart
has known of ache and pain --

Until that time, will see, but will not see.
Life's tempering flame will forge him strong,
And then, and only then will clarity ensue
When child is grown to man, finally he'll understand