The Way to Hidden Peak
Let’s columbine the mountain
Buttercup the trail
Lily for awhile
On a piece of flat-
We’ll thistle up a rocky ridge
Stop at mossy fountains
Investigate the glacial air
And pine the distant mountains
A jay will visit on the way
And bluebell with his eyes
“Larkspur on from here,” he’ll say.
"Run for the cloudless skies!”
As we climb the final crest
And rest there in the breeze
You put a finger to your lips
And we drop down on our knees.
“Can you hear that quiet clover?”
You say, rosing in the heat.
“It says the only pearly everlasting
Is the ground beneath our feet.”