The work of the pack up the rocky path
The heave of uphill
The wind, the air!
The cool breeze at the tops of mountains.
Miles and miles the mountains flow on
and the trees raise praise to You.
The rocks DO cry out in silence to You.
The wind DOES go where You send it.
And I am here.
ON this mountain.
Trying to take it all in.
But I cannot
It's too wide, too deep
and goes on forever
So I just stand in it