Sparks from nearby campfires
Might be stars of paradise
Glimpsed through twilight’s window
Too briefly for surmise

Of their height above the pines,
Their hues – red, green, or gold -–
Or mountains seen but dimly
Beyond the forest’s fold.

Lines of jeweled mountains,
Pale as moonlit snows,
Shining, reaching, soaring,
Rows on serried rows,

May illumine heaven’s nature
When strife and time are done:
Heaven is a quest unending,
Beauty ever just begun.


Robert Walton is a writer, educator, and poet living in California.

Featured Image: “The Campfire” by Albert Bierstadt.

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