Mountains

Their back so strong
their peaks so high

with silhouettes that roll
as a tide,
of mountainous lushness
seated in the sun.

Aged and aging
they are,
yet there to withstand
the coils of time and reality
that shift as quickly as sand.

Protruding henceforth
into the sky,
as a hand reaching
unto our God
whose light dances in the heavens
as the sun,
as the stars,
and whose beauty is captured
through picturesque clouds
—with movement and form
that depict
an instance
of this magnificent
Creation
of His, of Hers.