Winter Mountians

Me and the mountains.


We of finite flesh, how little we understand.
We who pride ourselves in the gears and oil of the machine,
yet are scarcely aware of its purpose.

The grand sum of all of our beautiful wisdom and wise learning,
our deep insight and far distant vision is merely the pots and pans banging in the kitchen.
There is a glorious feast prepared, but we investigate the new Teflon frying pan.
In the presence of the God Almighty, we are children drawing pictures of ourselves in crayolas.
We are fascinated by the chemical content of the paint while being unaware that we are staring into Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel.

How do you explain how the sunlight through the trees and the blue sky can lift the spirit?
Who can understand what the winter mountains were can do to a man's heart?

-BY

Did I mention that I love the mountians?