They climb the stony height,
the sea hums soft below,
as dawn unveils its light,
and sets the waves to glow.
An eagle breaks the morn,
its cry cuts through the blue,
the sky feels freshly born,
the day begins anew.
A fawn beside a pole,
its gaze both shy and deep,
looks straight into their soul,
as if it woke from sleep.
Behind, the forest glows,
gold mushroom cap takes hold,
where moss in silence grows,
and shadows breathe the cold.
Branch sways beyond the hill,
soft tint like amber flame,
firm leaves cling ever still,
yet burn with autumn’s name.
They reach the peak at last,
vast sea kisses the sky,
their present clears the past,
this view will never die.
– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy
Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 312 October 27 , 2025
This weeks prompt offered four picture options. This poem was inspired by all pictures. 💕