Blue bells, harebells
Sing amongst the meadow
Yellow blossoms bedeck the hummocks
Rolling down the slope,
Blue and yellow dappled patches
Quilt the tumultuous green
Feathered light with tassled grasses
Swaying in the breaths of wind...
Wind that swirls round the stony peaks
Whisking whisps of clouds through the passes
Tumbling them about with gay abandon
Nudibranchs of the sky...
Still other plumes of fog
Come billowing over the peaks and ridges of stone,
Watchful guardians
The gargoyles of nature
Tips of ancient sea bed layers
Tower amid the alpine meadows...
Dark, grey, craggy with age
Seemingly crouched on the edge
Rooted in the heart of the mountains
Up close we see a glimpse of their truth...
These timeworn sentinels
Streaked with sparkling white quartz
Amid the shadowed red
Of an ancient flame
Smoothed to stone,
Jagged yet strong
Rising from fragments
Of history's sharp flakes,
Beacons brightly spotted
With brilliant orange liken,
The ancient sea stone of the Blue Mountain
Watches over it's fragile alpine meadows
Time's messenger adorned in its timeless beauty
With the ephemeral delight of summer's life.
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