Against cutting cold through my parkas fold,
I moved toward the mountain’s peak,
Walking the trail through snow and hail,
Finally, I was closing in.
I reached the top,
And came to a stop,
Above the world, it seemed,
Waves of clouds flowed over the snow-covered trees.
The fading light was magic to the soul,
Pinks and blues, and all manner of warm hues,
As the snow gently fell.
The last sliver of light,
Gave way to night,
And that mountain held me like a spell.
Then a star shining near and far,
Burned through the snow and fog,
It settled there, and I couldn’t help but stare,
As the night rolled on.
Finally, I began my descent from this place of yore,
Thinking of wonders and praise,
And I watched light burn through the dark of night,
As it has for many days.
