Mt. Whitney, California
You singing peak! What manner of creation are you, To lift your head so high? What achievement is it, To pierce the sky? You singing peak! You crown yourself with golden glory, Then wrap yourself in misty shroud. When you withdraw, does the Holy Spirit Rest upon your gleaming flank, Seeking your secret crevasses, Your hidden springs, Your vital soul, Causing you to blaze forth in new glory?
You singing peak! You beckoned me forth To lay foot and hand Caressingly upon your granite body And lift myself To your sky-piercing summit. Then your spirit reached into me And shook my soul, You singing peak, Much as the hand of God Must have shaken you. You singing peak! Did you mean to lift me up And hand me to God?