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Abstract

wind into the first embers of the gathering night.</p><p id="4733">I ride my mountain bike most every day in the late afternoon and it is alway such a fertile time for my mind. I can’t even begin to express how many poems have been born there or how many solutions to life issues have been resolved there. This very piece was birthed in its nascent form just the other day when I burst free from a long day and found myself bathed in the softness of a late-afternoon in July on the trail you see above.</p><p id="c85d"><i>Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).</i></p><p id="5a19">You might also enjoy:</p><div id="4a34" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/a-bouquet-of-details-3dd2e7daf34b"> <div> <div> <h2>A Bouquet of Details</h2> <div><h3>CSA flowers and a 50 mm macro lens</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*AL73j74DX9akoOTmOTELnw.jpeg)"></div>

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    </div><p id="ef11">Poem and photo ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.</p></article></body>

Poetry, Nature, Creativity

Riding Into a Poem

That ephemeral moment where breath and creativity meet

Bam! I’m out.

Birthed into the glorious riot of sunshine that is late afternoon in July.

The dirt rides high on my tires and tiny sparks of finches fly from their perches on the silhouetted stalks of dried thistle and yesterday’s mustard.

Am I in heaven?

Or is heaven in me?

I am in the womb of creativity, gathering syllables that slide through my mind as I glide through this ephemeral moment in time.

I have to catch them before they die into the ordinariness of reality.

Rhymes, rhymes.

The rhythm of life.

The pump in my veins.

The fire in my side.

I gasp for breath and slip along the divide, riding out of the mundane and into the realm of bursting, birthing moments, where time has no place and poems float freely while my tires wind into the first embers of the gathering night.

I ride my mountain bike most every day in the late afternoon and it is alway such a fertile time for my mind. I can’t even begin to express how many poems have been born there or how many solutions to life issues have been resolved there. This very piece was birthed in its nascent form just the other day when I burst free from a long day and found myself bathed in the softness of a late-afternoon in July on the trail you see above.

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).