The horizon line dips and there you are,
Mighty and majestic,
Rising above the landscape.
You are the original tower reaching to the heavens.
Your white peaks create life-giving flows that water the grasslands,
Creating spawning grounds for fish and frogs and crawdads and hexapods of all sorts.
Where was I when the Maker called you forth,
When He commanded you to rise and grow,
When your flows formed the crests and peaks and valleys that make the landscape I call home?
Man is a breath, a vapor;
Here today, gone tomorrow;
The glory of the mountain peaks endure.