Majestic mountains with snow-capped peaks
touch a baby-blue sky dotted with puffy clouds
like fingers brushing God’s eyes, cleansing air.
White dusted pines march up and down slopes
erect as soldiers, as still as statues bearing arms,
free from smoky campfires and slow-moving cars.
Half-frozen lakes rimmed with white ice,
idle now from summer’s pleasures,
enjoying peaceful rest and rehabilitation.
Winter-tolerant birds call quietly, snug in nests
hidden in tall trees, protected from wind’s chill blasts.
Fragile-boned winter-thinned deer huddle under low branches
ever watchful, ever dreaming of green fields and sunny days.
Bright white hares frozen in place, noses twitching, on alert.
Silence broken by crunching footsteps marking time,
clapping gloved hands, and occasional muffled words.
Breath steams, creating human-bred clouds that rise
to greet the day, the mountains, life-giving air,
giving substance to dreams that otherwise vaporize
into nothingness, dispelling fears and chasing away
omens of ills that might come to the unwary.
Blessed mountains with snow-capped peaks
reminders of the glory, the majesty, the grandeur
of the world entrusted to our hands to keep, to protect,
to save for generations and generations to come.