King Of The Mountains

in the mountains the sun is rising and though I am not there I see it clearly just the same the air is thick with morning mist the valley wet with dew the coffee pot is on the fire a breeze wakes the rhododendrons as they stir and shed the night in crystal droplets like tears of joy and I know how they feel as in the east the mountain profile becomes a silhouette gold transforms to rose and pink and orange and tangerine the alchemy of dawn has come I pour my steaming morning cup and start some bacon in my pan the sun has breached the sky yet there is silence in the air the world may take its quiet repose I am the king of the mountains