The Mountain

The mountain rises from the river’s steep shore;
the wind wails, howling, screaming for more

Limbs snap behind me, falling forlorn;
terror’s beside me from night until morn

I struggle to capture one thought in deep space;
Who’s now my master and where is his grace?

I pleaded for mercy, and now, just despair
… the groaning, the groaning, the billowing air

I’m hidden within a valley of green,
mountains on both sides, remaining unseen

My vision, now blurred, is no longer keen,
yet I stand still in awe, in glory serene

The mountain, it rises, a refuge in rain,
a shelter from storms, a balm for my pain

I’m climbing the mountain to its towering peaks;
Yet touch not the mountain lest to you God speaks