Today–It’s all about the STONE<\/strong><\/h1>\n <\/p>\n
The Berchtesgadener Street Stone.<\/strong><\/em><\/h2>\n <\/p>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.lyndalambert.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/72road2hallstadt-300x226.jpg?resize=212%2C160\")
<\/a><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n\u00a0The poem I wrote about this stone is in my book<\/h2>\nConcerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage,<\/strong> (p. 16)<\/strong><\/em><\/h2>\n <\/p>\n
Here’s the STORY behind the POEM:<\/strong><\/h2>\n <\/p>\n
One summer day I walked\u00a0 along a pathway that led from my summer home in Gr\u00f6dig, Austria to the next village, St. Leonard.\u00a0 In Austria,\u00a0 you can walk from one village to the next on pathways. I often walked for hours, visiting\u00a0 villages and stopping for some refreshments in the local restaurants. I always carried my sketchbook\/journal and stopped to take a rest on the benches along the way to write about my discoveries or thoughts.\u00a0 I stopped to pick up a stone that caught my attention.\u00a0 I write about this stone in my hand. Later, when I was back at my home base, I sat with the stone in my hand and created a pencil drawing of it.\u00a0 Eventually, this experience became a poem.<\/p>\n
My poem, The Berchtesgadener Street Stone is published this week in<\/p>\n
NatureWriting Literary Magazine<\/a>\u00a0—\u00a0Ron Harton, editor.<\/p>\nYou can read the poem by clicking on the link to NatureWriting.<\/p>\n
_______________________<\/strong><\/h1>\n <\/p>\n
“The Berchtesgadener Street Stone”<\/h3>\n<\/h1>\nCool rain falls, a transparent veil<\/h4>\n
beyond this Alpine village, mist covers the mountain<\/p>\n
Holding a pink stone in my left hand<\/p>\n
I watch from behind a glass door.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Beyond this Alpine Village, mist covers the mountain<\/p>\n
as I remember walking to St. Leonhardt<\/p>\n
yesterday morning<\/p>\n
and watch from behind a glass door<\/p>\n
I have become the mother of the earth.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
As I remember walking to St. Leonhardt<\/p>\n
yesterday morning<\/p>\n
wide fields of Queen Anne\u2019s lace, full bloom<\/p>\n
I have become the mother of the earth<\/p>\n
A small pink stone was nestled in the sand near my feet.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Wide fields of Queen Anne\u2019s lace, full bloom<\/p>\n
at the base of the mountain on Berchtesgadener Street<\/p>\n
A small pink stone, nestled in the sand near my feet<\/p>\n
half buried in sand and soft damp earth.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
At the base of the mountain on Berchtesgadener Street<\/p>\n
I bent down to pick up the stone from the field<\/p>\n
half buried in sand and soft damp earth<\/p>\n
Held it and walked till the winds wiped it dry.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I bent down to pick up the stone from the earth<\/p>\n
We walked home together, the stone and I<\/p>\n
Held it and walked till the winds wiped it dry<\/p>\n
A triangle shaped form with rounded corners.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
We walked home together, the stone and I<\/p>\n
soft pink color, mingled with gray<\/p>\n
a triangle shaped puff with rounded corners<\/p>\n
Deeper pink veins lie just below the skin.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Soft pink color, mingled with gray<\/p>\n
beneath a translucent surface<\/p>\n
rose colored veins lie just below the skin<\/p>\n
cuts and scars from a life that\u2019s been harsh.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Beneath a transparent surface<\/p>\n
a scarred pink stone speaks of a long life<\/p>\n
cuts and scars from a life that\u2019s been harsh<\/p>\n
a cool stone warms in the palm of my hand.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A scarred pink stone speaks of a long life<\/p>\n
as rain pours from the dense fog in the sky<\/p>\n
a cool stone warms in the palm of my hand<\/p>\n
as I watch the mountain mingle with mist.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
As rain pours from the dense fog in the sky<\/p>\n
the stone brings life to my body<\/p>\n
as I watch the mountains mingle with mist<\/p>\n
It\u2019s rained every day since I arrived here.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The stone brings life to my body<\/p>\n
A jagged mountain edge emerges in the<\/p>\n
distance<\/p>\n
It\u2019s rained every day since I arrived here<\/p>\n
mist, clouds, and sky conspire to make<\/p>\n
mountains vanish.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A jagged mountain edge emerges in the distance<\/p>\n
the ultimate magic show takes place<\/p>\n
Mist, clouds, and sky conspire to make mountains vanish<\/p>\n
I shift in my seat and listen to cars moving outside.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The ultimate magic show takes place<\/p>\n
the stone turns over in my hand<\/p>\n
I shift in my seat and listen to cars moving<\/p>\n
outside<\/p>\n
one warm thing on a cold rainy morning.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The stone turns over in my hand<\/p>\n
it throbs and moves, warmer than my body<\/p>\n
the one warm thing on a cold rainy morning<\/p>\n
The Berchtesgadener Street Stone clutched\u00a0 in my hand.<\/p>\n
____________________<\/strong><\/h1>\n <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/h1>\n<\/h1>\nAustria_WebSHOW<\/a> ![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.lyndalambert.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/38eaglesnestchalet-300x197.jpg?resize=300%2C197\")
<\/a>______________________<\/strong><\/h1>\n\n\nOh, Monday Me! is written and published by Lynda McKinney Lambert, Copyright, 2018.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\nLeave a comment for me.<\/h2>\n<\/div>\nPlease, SHARE this POST with your FRIENDS o SOCIAL MEDIA.<\/strong><\/h3>\n\u00a0Click on this LINK & share my poem today!<\/a><\/strong><\/h3>\n\nE-mail:\u00a0 llambert@zoominternet.net<\/a><\/p>\nBlog and website at:\u00a0 www.lyndalambert.com<\/a><\/p>\nAuthor\u2019s Page: http:\/\/www.dldbookslcom\/lyndalaambert<\/a><\/p>\nMy books on Amazon:<\/strong><\/h2>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.lyndalambert.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/04\/Front-Cover-200x300.jpg?resize=200%2C300\")
<\/a><\/h2>\n<\/h2>\n<\/h2>\n
Walking by Inner Vision: Stories & Poems<\/em>:\u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\nSee my newest book..click here.<\/a><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n <\/p>\n
\n\n<\/h3>\n<\/h3>\n<\/h3>\n\u00a0Our truest life is when we are in our dreams \u2013 awake. Henry David Thoreau<\/em><\/h3>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n <\/p>\n One summer day I walked\u00a0 along a pathway that led from my summer home in Gr\u00f6dig, Austria to the next village, St. Leonard.\u00a0 In Austria,\u00a0 you can walk from one village to the next on pathways. I often walked for hours, visiting\u00a0 villages and stopping for some refreshments in the local restaurants. I always carried my sketchbook\/journal and stopped to take a rest on the benches along the way to write about my discoveries or thoughts.\u00a0 I stopped to pick up a stone that caught my attention.\u00a0 I write about this stone in my hand. Later, when I was back at my home base, I sat with the stone in my hand and created a pencil drawing of it.\u00a0 Eventually, this experience became a poem.<\/p>\n My poem, The Berchtesgadener Street Stone is published this week in<\/p>\n NatureWriting Literary Magazine<\/a>\u00a0—\u00a0Ron Harton, editor.<\/p>\n You can read the poem by clicking on the link to NatureWriting.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n beyond this Alpine village, mist covers the mountain<\/p>\n Holding a pink stone in my left hand<\/p>\n I watch from behind a glass door.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Beyond this Alpine Village, mist covers the mountain<\/p>\n as I remember walking to St. Leonhardt<\/p>\n yesterday morning<\/p>\n and watch from behind a glass door<\/p>\n I have become the mother of the earth.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n As I remember walking to St. Leonhardt<\/p>\n yesterday morning<\/p>\n wide fields of Queen Anne\u2019s lace, full bloom<\/p>\n I have become the mother of the earth<\/p>\n A small pink stone was nestled in the sand near my feet.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Wide fields of Queen Anne\u2019s lace, full bloom<\/p>\n at the base of the mountain on Berchtesgadener Street<\/p>\n A small pink stone, nestled in the sand near my feet<\/p>\n half buried in sand and soft damp earth.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n At the base of the mountain on Berchtesgadener Street<\/p>\n I bent down to pick up the stone from the field<\/p>\n half buried in sand and soft damp earth<\/p>\n Held it and walked till the winds wiped it dry.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n I bent down to pick up the stone from the earth<\/p>\n We walked home together, the stone and I<\/p>\n Held it and walked till the winds wiped it dry<\/p>\n A triangle shaped form with rounded corners.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n We walked home together, the stone and I<\/p>\n soft pink color, mingled with gray<\/p>\n a triangle shaped puff with rounded corners<\/p>\n Deeper pink veins lie just below the skin.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Soft pink color, mingled with gray<\/p>\n beneath a translucent surface<\/p>\n rose colored veins lie just below the skin<\/p>\n cuts and scars from a life that\u2019s been harsh.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Beneath a transparent surface<\/p>\n a scarred pink stone speaks of a long life<\/p>\n cuts and scars from a life that\u2019s been harsh<\/p>\n a cool stone warms in the palm of my hand.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n A scarred pink stone speaks of a long life<\/p>\n as rain pours from the dense fog in the sky<\/p>\n a cool stone warms in the palm of my hand<\/p>\n as I watch the mountain mingle with mist.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n As rain pours from the dense fog in the sky<\/p>\n the stone brings life to my body<\/p>\n as I watch the mountains mingle with mist<\/p>\n It\u2019s rained every day since I arrived here.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The stone brings life to my body<\/p>\n A jagged mountain edge emerges in the<\/p>\n distance<\/p>\n It\u2019s rained every day since I arrived here<\/p>\n mist, clouds, and sky conspire to make<\/p>\n mountains vanish.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n A jagged mountain edge emerges in the distance<\/p>\n the ultimate magic show takes place<\/p>\n Mist, clouds, and sky conspire to make mountains vanish<\/p>\n I shift in my seat and listen to cars moving outside.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The ultimate magic show takes place<\/p>\n the stone turns over in my hand<\/p>\n I shift in my seat and listen to cars moving<\/p>\n outside<\/p>\n one warm thing on a cold rainy morning.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The stone turns over in my hand<\/p>\n it throbs and moves, warmer than my body<\/p>\n the one warm thing on a cold rainy morning<\/p>\n The Berchtesgadener Street Stone clutched\u00a0 in my hand.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n E-mail:\u00a0 llambert@zoominternet.net<\/a><\/p>\n Blog and website at:\u00a0 www.lyndalambert.com<\/a><\/p>\n Author\u2019s Page: http:\/\/www.dldbookslcom\/lyndalaambert<\/a><\/p>\n Walking by Inner Vision: Stories & Poems<\/em>:\u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.lyndalambert.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/72road2hallstadt.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n
\u00a0The poem I wrote about this stone is in my book<\/h2>\n
Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage,<\/strong> (p. 16)<\/strong><\/em><\/h2>\n
Here’s the STORY behind the POEM:<\/strong><\/h2>\n
_______________________<\/strong><\/h1>\n
“The Berchtesgadener Street Stone”<\/h3>\n
<\/h1>\n
Cool rain falls, a transparent veil<\/h4>\n
____________________<\/strong><\/h1>\n
<\/h1>\n
<\/h1>\n
Austria_WebSHOW<\/a>
<\/a>______________________<\/strong><\/h1>\nLeave a comment for me.<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n
Please, SHARE this POST with your FRIENDS o SOCIAL MEDIA.<\/strong><\/h3>\n
\u00a0Click on this LINK & share my poem today!<\/a><\/strong><\/h3>\n
My books on Amazon:<\/strong><\/h2>\n
<\/a><\/h2>\n<\/h2>\n
<\/h2>\n
See my newest book..click here.<\/a><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/h3>\n
<\/h3>\n
<\/h3>\n
\u00a0Our truest life is when we are in our dreams \u2013 awake. Henry David Thoreau<\/em><\/h3>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n