a song heard from snowy mountains

i look upon you snowy mountains,
and see you are many and you are one.
always ever distant but always there,
present to my eye, by night and by sun.

i watched you glowing in the glades of spring,
when the wind was blowing you green and warm.
i heard the sweet call of your morning birds
and learned to follow the road of their call.

i walked upon closely your green escape---
then lost in your maze of life and color,
then weary to lay wild in your shade,
but again the birds called out with wonder.

i walked through your valley, upon your base,
and drank at your river flowing away.
then caught a slight shiver, standing by shade,
then called to your birds but only to say:

"thank you my friends, for showing well your grace,
i never knew awe like a mountain call,
only ever the mountain lights that fade---
but now i've walked through you each one and all."

and oh sweet memory---green spring mountains
are all i care to remember right now---
spare me this hard wind blowing, as fountain
ice covers life from the bird calling down.

the call is silent, I hear but wolf howl.
and who am i not to answer the wolf,
when a sound from your mountain is the fall
of love all over? a true sound alone!