The white-capped, jagged peaks
Catch the clouds and collect them,
Draping them like scarves across their shoulders.
The sun dances between floating puffs,
Painting the canvas below with light and shadow.
It shocks my heart with joy each time,
This ten thousand year old sculpture,
Always new, never changing,
This staging ground of life and death
Against which every disaster obliterates itself.
As the world remains whole.
This unshakeable frame of history
Breathes into me its strength,
I will fail often and fail at last,
But in our failing, the world endures,
Folding us into its story,
Its beauty and goodness echoes in my soul,
The glory within resonating to the glory without,
My joyful agreement, invitation, oneness
With all that is good in the universe.
I am an indispensable character in the eternal drama.
Janathan Grace Reflections 
your poetry takes me right there into your mountains to experience them with you. Thanks