Mountain Pass

I have always been fascinated by the history of the Oregon Trail. The hope and the courage displayed by these “overlanders” in search of a better life resonates down through the centuries. This photograph was taken just outside the Treasure Valley not far from where the Oregon Trail passed through these foothills around Boise, Idaho.

A light shines from beyond the hills,

a beacon for us all.

The snow lies deep upon the ridge

One must pass to reach the bridge

to cross before nightfall.

Through the mountain pass we labored,

bundled against the cold.

Silent footfalls in the blowing snow,

Wagon wheels creaking as we go,

to carry a hope so bold.

The pines were dark against the sky,

with secrets no one knew.

Dark shapes moved among the trees

With yellow eyes we could see,

never stepping into view.

Memories of the dry Plains recede,

we dream of fertile fields.

Remembering those we left behind,

With thoughts of those yet to find,

our future soon revealed.

The mountain pass opens before us,

a trail to the valley below.

So far to come to seek a home,

So many miles have we roamed,

of life and loss we know.