land of mountains

Hold tight, we're taking off.
Watch as we climb into the sky.
The clouds race by outside my window,
Thin, wispy clouds of the North.
I am leaving,
Going to a land of rock and
Mountains.
Thousands of miles away from the rich green upstate lands.
The World rolls by beneath me.
The fertile farms of the Plains are spread about like a patchwork quilt.
Floating islands of fluffy clouds drift lazily on an azure sea.
I wonder what it will be like
Out there
Where I have never been.
I wonder what it will be like
In the land of Colorado.
I am leaving,
Going to a land of rock and
Mountains.

The Road winds upward into
Eternity.
Fourteen-thousand feet into the immense Western Sky.
This is Zebulon's Mountain.
There are no guardrails or stone walls to catch us on the hairpin turns.
We drive close to the edge.
By mistake, I look down,
And then begin to move to the right side of the car.
So high.
So very, very high.
And nothing to break a fall but the rocks two thousand feet below.
So very high.
I stand now at the summit, with all the world below me.
The wind whistles and screams around the tumbled rocks.
There is no sign of civilization, no trace of human existence.
It is all lost in the misty depths.
Up here, I am queen of the wind,
The wind that roars like thunder in my ears
And threatens to lift me up and cast me into the valley below.
But I must stop to catch my breath.
There is not much air to catch
Up here.
But there is beauty.
There is an incredible, lofty panorama unlike anything else on Earth.

We have moved on.
Now, we drive through a park of Rocky Mountains
Where tiny tundra flowers grow in abundance
And glaciers still crawl ponderously along their icy way.
Once again, I admire the breathtaking mountain vistas,
But a glint of gold catches my eye as we drive around jagged pinnacles.
It is a herd of sheep that rival Jason's quarry with their dignified presence.
I watch, fascinated, as they graze on the lichens
Growing in the wintry climate.
Suddenly, three of them leap into action.
They are running
And keeping pace with our car.
I can hear the rumble of their hooves through the open window
As they gallop over the treeless field on the mountain.
Not even the legendary ram of the golden fleece could have equaled the
Power
Of what I saw.
Three magnificent rams demonstrating nature's majesty by
Effortlessly racing humankind
Just as the Argo raced before the wind.

We have crossed the state line into Wyoming.
Our next stop is the Grand Teton Mountains.
The drive is long and
Hot, and dry,
And still.
There is no sound but the hum of the engine.
The desert stretches out all around us,
A sea of sand and scrubby brush.
Tiny deer, many no larger than an average dog,
Graze on the sagebrush by the highway.
Great, craggy red stone formations
Lift their rugged faces above the sand.
But they are nothing compared to what awaits beyond the arid land.
As the land turns green again,
I see them.
Six giants all in a line.
As I gaze upon that splendor,
I finally understand the song.
"For purple mountains' majesty."
Great spires raise their
Snow-cloaked shoulders into the clear sky.
Here, it is
Silent,
As befits one of nature's greatest monuments.
I have never seen mountains so tall and grand.
Not even the enormous Pike can match their brilliance.
I can see almost to Heaven just by gazing at their summits.
I have never seen anything like this before, and I will likely
Never see it again.
But I have come, and I have seen,
And, after all these years, I still remember.

I am leaving,
Leaving the land of rock and
Mountains.
I am going home,
But I will always remember.