The Alpine Spring

A poem

Whoever dwells in the house of the Lord is as one who hikes
beside streams of snowy peak runoff.

Refreshed, soothed by the constant gurgling chortles of the leaping creek
over mossy rocks, tree limb, and silty stream bed.

Wherever their foot steps,
peace is alongside them because
He alongside them.

The trail may be dusty, but one simply needs to
untie their shoes, slip off their socks, and
wiggle toes into the tingling current
to wash away evidence of miles traveled.

Louder now, the creek roars as snowpack recedes from valleys and peaks,
unable to resist effects of warming spring rays.

What started as drips, has collected in rivulets, gullies,
joining other friends until becoming a mighty rush.

Pristine water, tumbling lower and lower down the mountainside,
under pine and aspen,
bringing fresh hope to thirsty flora and the hiker’s heart alike.