When snow has come and lingered for a time,
The mountains shine like pure white satin sheets.
The jagged rocks that stand and point like knives,
Have but a look of poise and symmetry.
The houses they in hibernation go,
and sink like ships way deep beneath the waves.
Cold air does whoosh in frigid gusty blows,
But stops to peek a while inside a cave.
The birds take off from empty bare tree nests,
To seek their food which they know is not there.
The trees did fall asleep like all the rest
Of this great wintry beauty of no where.
The hunters coming back from years afar,
Do find their world still bright like heaven’s star.
a secret never told,
vast majestic mountains
in its palace of white gold.
Oh you people in the valley
of the village down below,
roam in silence
for the secret never told.
The mist that lightly lingers,
gently staggers wide white fingers,
through a dark collage of mountains
laying to rest upon the snow
to find the secret never told.
I sing to you my Lord
and praise your Holy Name,
Dance with me my Jesus,
may the music sweep us away
Today I lay on mountains high
and breath your breath’s wind,
The trees they sway and leaves they sing
the notes of my Savior’s hymns.
I rest my weary head on you
and hear all life’s long rhythms,
My sins may interrupt my song
but you conduct their collapse.
In your name I bow down
and humble at your feet,
My hand you take and draw me near
to dwell in your home so sweet.
Hear the Lord calling to you,
His voice a sweet melody,
Listen, my child, I am your God,
My love an ovation do dear.
You are up in the mountains hiking with a friend. Along your path you come across a lone pint size milk carton. You’re a fiction writer, and you’re looking for ideas for another story but coming up with zilch. The hike in the mountains you feel will do you some good and perhaps get the wheels of creativity going. The milk carton accomplishes this goal as soon as you see it. It’s as if an electric spark shocked that story center of the right side of your brain. In an instant, your mind has a ‘What if ‘ scenario in place.
What if the milk carton had drops of blood on it, and the blood belonged to someone who vanished without a trace 50 years ago? The blood is fairly fresh too.
In reality, the milk carton is just a milk carton and it most likely belonged to another hiker. They finished the milk and didn’t want to take the carton with them, so they left it there. BOOM. That’s it. BUT, what you did with your ‘what if ‘scenario is put a twist on reality. That’s what fiction does. I love to put a creative spin on things. It makes life interesting.