I look eastward
Towards the face of
This mountain I see
I am drifting
Now in a silence, in
The harshness of
Winter’s hand as
Stillness everywhere
Along the cloak of
Snowfall suits a slow
Impassioned warmth
Falling upon this land
As if it were you – let me
Encompass all of you
And I will become finite
To your infinite sunlight
As the hills praying
In transformation, as
A lullaby unmoored
From within, sits beside you.

© K. James Ribble