The Mountain

In splendid heights, where silence reigns, The mountain stands, a sentinel in time, With every echo of the falling rains, The heart of nature sings, sublime.

Its peaks adorn the sky’s embrace, A crown of white upon its brow, In shadows deep, and every trace, A sacred promise held—now, here, and now.

The journey upward tests the soul, Each step a prayer, a yearning gaze, In the mountain’s arms, we find our whole, A refuge, in the wild, I’m not afraid.

• AJM Smith