by Mathias Seiwert

Created on: February 05, 2011

When level with the sea the peaks attract,
And snow-capped majesty doth bat its eyes;
The wild elegance affirms as fact-
That living best is dwelling in the skies.

When focus then takes flight from anchored skin,
And leaves the bones to toil on the ground,
The battle’s almost o’er, the heart must win,
And take up residence on top the mound.

And yet the air is rare atop the peak,
But growing thus addicted to its blaze,
The one who doth pursues none else to seek,
Idolatry to spir’tual highs displays.

The glory of the mountain top doth burn—
So peek, but linger not, we must return.

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