Paramount, for the Speechless

By Noah Craig

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The silence does crawl up the side of the mountain
          Footfalls dampened by the lost fir needles
          On a trail that decreed decibels banned
          Random guard posts of lightning-struck trees manned
          By a vast army of slugs and beetles

Even the sweet song of the bird melts in the sun
          That dares to pierce the solid canopy
          Tranquility has been woven and spun
          Into the fabric of its rocky lungs
          Which itch to sing a song still yet to be

The arboreal steeples blanket the mossed stone--
          If only they’d broadcast to the valley--
          And exhort all beneath to lie down prone
          And to submit to the thin breeze alone
          And to eat but from the placid galley

A perpetual lull before the crescendo--
          Violins hidden within ancient stumps--
          The sole era known as far as men go
          Yearning for time’s burden to relent so
          The peak may join in chorus with the trumps

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Noah J Craig is an author and a poet who hopes that his words will glorify the ultimate Author. Originally from New England, he currently lives in Henderson, Nevada. If he’s not writing, reading or drinking coffee, he is most likely halfway up a mountain wishing he had more storage space on his camera. You can visit him online at noahjcraig.com.

Noah's other work on Foreshadow:
Strength (Poetry, March 2023)