The Way to Hidden Peak

 

Let’s columbine the mountain

Buttercup the trail

Lily for awhile

On a piece of flat-topped shale.

 

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.”