In a minuscule moment

Of time



The mountaintop

Is mine



The petrichor

Rising from

The damp Earth'S floor



Is like an aroma

Soothing to my core



While the Coneflowers

Tease my nostrils



In blinding blooms

Of gold



Cherished is this solitude



For I have grown

Quite old



Vicissitudes of my view



Slowly change into layers of

Soft violets

And flowing blues



And the froth of the day

Finally elopes

Into the canopy of stars



Where a red moon

Beams down



On the cracks

Of cold stone



And the clouds

Are rimmed

With pearls of hope



Where soon the

Ancient rains prevail



Cleansing the mountain

And the vale



I hear the spirit



While the night whispers

Nature's nocturnal soliloquy



Prodding the future



Not yet complete



In germanation

Of fertile dreams



Of what could be



From what never was



The discovery

Of God's love



And life's finality



Is only just

A minuscule moment

Of time



Where some seek eternity

And some seek the shrine



As I Inhale "YAH"

And Exhale "WEH"



God is Indeed

My Life Breath



The mountain

My Sanctuary

09/15/2026

Posted on 09/15/2026
Copyright © 2026 Clara Mae Gregory