Early morning rush to work
Through the city by the bay,
Gleaming arches, shining towers,
Azure skies light the way.
Yet farther off and over all,
Stone ramparts rising high,
Icy shoulders, majestic peak
Glowing gold against the sky.
Falling glaciers, crumbling cliffs,
Sheer walls stark against the blue,
Slopes of white are lit afire by
The coming dawn’s pearly hue.
Mighty mountain, gazing down,
In her shadow have we dwelt,
Heedless of her awful strength,
Beauty, terror, presence felt.
Yet one morning glance upon
Her mist enshrouded face,
City problems drop away,
Forget about the race.
A breathless pause, a moment’s rest,
A pause in time and traffic slow,
Great Tahoma, mighty mother,
Resplendent in her alpenglow.
Lace Winter 