MOUNTAINS, MISTS AND LIGHT

Dedicated to Bogus Basin and surrounding foothills

Mountains -- fortresses in a lonely vigil,
Seemingly eternal, rest in magnitude.
As clouds hover over their majestic crowns,
Violent forces seek to destroy,
Gentle drops seek to renew...
And when the Rainbow caresses their tops,
It becomes a colorful halo, a promise of glory.
The Mists float about the Mountains' feet,
Hiding their true appearance from the sight.
So, too, Mists float about the Spirit --
And, as the Mists do on Earth,
When the Light appears
They must fade away, leaving a sharp, clear
Image of pinnacles once obscure.
And most glorious is the Sun as it rises behind them,
Rays first reaching into the brilliant sky.
The Sun awakens and closes a new day,
So radiant you dare not look at it,
Only feel its warmth and enjoy.
Each, in its own way,
Has a place to be, a thing to do --
The Mountains, the Mists, the Light.