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Mountain Village

There is a small village in the mountains.
Water was pure, the air so crisp, a simple 
beauty filled the eyes and held the heart
with no disguise.

I grew to know the higher level of snow, 
seemed as though at this height the drifting snow
would let the spirit flow.
Born and raised in high altitude, I learned to
respect a " Know How " attitude. 

The mountain road was paved with cobblestones 
Leading through the village and the lush green valley
below,  time on the mountain seemed to stand still,
in many cases, it was a place that tests the iron will.
My home is close to the clouds, no fields of flowers 
and bees, or rolling waters of the Seas.

Living on this Mountaintop is peaceful and fulfilling.
The gentle calmness is softly flowing a serenity so instilling.
For centuries the height of rock and earth reaches far
above, where eagles soar, if you listen carefully, you'll 
hear the mountain roar.

Untouched by man's forceful demand, there is warmth 
of God's open hand holding the few who stand in seasons
long embrace, to climb nature's earthly staircase to stand 
on the horizon of earth and sky, to witness the open wings
of Angles drifting by.

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Mountain Village