Searching at Dawn

We sit on the mountain, unstirring,
awaiting the birth of first light.
A chill in the air confirming;
a still on the earth at night.

As spears, stabbing blazes surround us
bathed in shadow, the ocean below
new color fills the landscape around us
sparkling white lying over the snow.

Through this glow comes a realization
that maybe we are not so alone;
new order in our view of creation,
a mighty hand on this place we call home.

In our sight we will see no corruption
as dawn slowly drifts down to the water;
the waves wash our souls in seduction,
only warmth of the sun on our shoulders.

Not a word as we witness this wonder,
not a move as the sand enters view,
but our spirits fly, tasting this thunder,
this gift, as our search starts anew.

Come the stones on the slopes at our feet
dusty yellows, muted reds of all hues.
Plants waking with fragrances sweet,
their thirsts slaked on glistening dew.

Full brilliance turns dawn into day,
shameless tears at what we have seen;
our guide's gentle hand shines the way,
through this strength, our souls once more clean.