The document expresses the author's belief that poetry is inherent in everyday life, influenced by nature, emotions, and personal experiences. It highlights the process of inspiration and the beauty of capturing moments through words, comparing it to painting vivid pictures. The narrative includes reflections on experiences at the beach and on a canoe trip, emphasizing connections to nature and the sacredness of those moments.

1. Snow on the Mountain
Ray Foss

3. POETRY
• I believe poetry is all around us, not
something you have to seek out in some
distant place.
• The beauty of nature, our beliefs that
sustains us, the smile of our daughters, and
the love that we share, these are all subjects
of my poetry.
• People say that a picture speaks a thousand
words. With poetry, I can paint a picture,
capture a moment, a smell, a scene in a
handful of words. I hope these words paint
pictures for you.

4. Needing to focus

5. Seeing the beauty

6. Seeing the Words – v9
for me, not education, learning
someone unspoken, unwritten
gathered from the air, a gift
writing is so much about
seeing the words, the constellations,
points of light against the night sky,
the mind’s eye of unconsciousness
dreams retained, written,
pulled from the canvas, the canopy
knitting the words into the tapestry,
the fabric they were meant to be
gossamer wings and steely gravitas

7. blended or plucked from the ether
gathered upon a permanent page
such is the process of inspiration
finding the words, written
already stitched together
written in heaven, upon stones
woven tight with strong bonds
phrases and thoughts tied together
coming as if from nothing, but right
already formed, ready to be discovered
seen and scribed, printed upon the page

8. Beach Sand
Maybe it is the memories
the change of pace that brings us there
the sense of vacation
maybe the smell of the place
the sights of the gulls, the dunes, the grasses
but oh it is the feel of it,
the crunch and slide of it
the feeling of beach sand
so different from dirt, soil, loam
no, not earthy, moist, rich,

9. but oh so granular and gritty
even when wet,
moveable paper spreading under toes
sliding beneath the soles
smoothing my skin
clearing my mind
unburdening me of the rest
drawing me to the tactile, the feel
of beach sand

10. The Ledges – v4
Our eight silent canoes
Sixteen of us entranced
Pushed off onto the still waters
After 2am on a July night.
Full moon and stars, so many,
To guide us across the lake
And on down river.
Loon and bullfrog
Their calls, their cries
The only sound present

11. Save for the slice,
The bite of the paddle,
A drizzle of water off the blades,
And hulls breaking the surface.
No one spoke,
None of we sixteen.
Lost in our own thoughts
Not wanting to break
The magic, the spell
The night and the water
Held on all of us.

13. something ancient, sacred – v2
something ancient, sacred
speaking to my spirit
connected to this place
something familiar
as I walk among the trees
I have been here before
among the ferns, the pines
something ancient, sacred
something familiar
touching my heart and mind

14. formed within the stone – v6
within their flesh, their bodies
their true self within them
hidden but present
formed within the stone
before their beginning
who they will be
the truth of their being
already present, waiting
formed within the stone
before their beginning