The trail vanishes under your boots,
Brambles clutch at ankles, roots snare fingers,
And still you push forward,
Through mossed rocks and hidden hollows.
A creek cuts across your path,
Its water cold, unyielding, rushing,
You step, balance, slide, laugh—
The forest tests your patience and resolve.
Sunlight fractures through the canopy,
Casting patterns on leaves and lichen,
Birdsong drifts from unseen branches,
Each sound a compass, each scent a guide.
No markers, no path signs,
Only your footprints pressed in mud and memory,
Every step a choice, every choice an adventure,
Every stumble a lesson, every climb a victory.
When the ridge opens to a wide view,
The world spreads below in jagged and green,
And you know the path mattered less than the wandering,
Less than the finding, less than the being.
-
Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Online) - Published: May 31st, 2026 08:58
- Comment from author about the poem: Inspired by the activity of off-trail hiking, also known as bushwhacking. For more context visit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Off-trail_hiking
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Sports Poetry.
Online)
Comments2
Matthew, this really grabbed me. There is such a spirit of adventure running through this piece...not reckless adventure, but the kind that embraces uncertainty and trusts the journey. By the end, it feels less like a hike and more like a philosophy of living. Beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
A beautiful picture painted in this verse. It is full of images close to my heart and an activity I have done for years. Cutting new trails through forest and at times over sand dunes, through marsh and up mountain sides. One is never so close to nature. Lovely
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.