When, from behind the Sawtooths, the sun shyly rises,
The alpha bays his first cry to sound the closure of night.
And from the casks of heaven,
Outpour sheets of fog into the basins of the earth.
Into noon, day is leavened,
While the loquacious flock of jays is rattled with mirth!
My vast old aureate canvas on high
Darkens into a thick blanket of black.
Shredding ribbons of light across the sky,
My drum, the thunder gives silence a clack!
You don’t know me,
Still, my presence will forever stand.
You won’t own me,
For my freedom resides in the land.
It is my residents who define me.
It is their constant change which refines me.
I am the saccharine fragrance of the North,
And the heterogeneous mountain sound.
I am the timeless tranquility brought forth,
And this broad Northern hemisphere is my crown.
Picture Credit: Personally Photographed Image
