The mountains are calling and I must go – John Muir
Oh thou majestic and lofty mountains,
I sometimes feel that your peaks summon me.
They whisper your name in my ears,
And ask me to listen to your solemn harmony.
With these voices echoing in my mind,
I pack my bags and tie my shoe-laces.
And set for an expedition restlessly,
Towards your fiercely lambent peaks.
The journey towards your castle is not easy,
Where sylvan glens and frolicking streamlets,
Welcome me in the pathway.
And obstacles like white sedimentary boulders,
Check my resolve to reach you.
The sky of eventide is now lead grey,
Yet your puissant peaks ascend high.
Loftily you soar and lonely you stand,
With solemn silent trance lingering in air.
The morn has arrived and I am on an apex,
Does your magnific spirit dwell here?
As I see rumbling clouds and frigid wildflowers,
Waiting restlessly to hear your sermon,
On solitary existence in this severe clime.
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