I was in prayer on the third day having been summoned by the mountain,
I began to climb the steep path but it was nothing but rocks and pitfalls, so battered and bruised
I hurried, realizing we needed to defeat the crows, keep them from filling the pine trees,
so bluejays could build their nests……and spring would come to us this year……finally and at last.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
Note: The term third day here, means the third day of the week, which is Tuesday. This is fiction.