ON THE RIDGE
by Jane Mary Curran
around ten at night
high on the ridge
magic
rises
from earth
through root
trunk and branch
thick as dark mist
between leaves
night deepens
I turn toward dreams
while on the ridge
magic
rouses
the wind
treetops roar
drenched
with enchantment
I wait for a glimpse
but it’s magic that watches
I am the seen
around ten at night
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I live just below the top of a ridge that runs from east Asheville up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Trees, wind, fog, bear cubs, and the full moon rising = beauty, power, magic.
PHOTO: “Valentine’s Day on Piney Mountain Ridge” (North Carolina) by Jane Mary Curran.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jane Mary Curran is a published poet and spiritual director in Asheville, North Carolina. She lived her first life as a pianist and college professor; her second as a chaplain at hospice. Now in the third third of life she returns to poetry for the essential stuff of living, fewer words and greater soul.
Silver Birch Press 
There is that magic up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Your poem captures that lovely, contemplative side of nature. Well done, Jane Mary Curran.