The White Mountain
On this White Sentinel in the cool dawn
There is a certain slant of light
A soft pink orange rising song
Turning my awakening towards her sight.
Like something ancient on afternoons
Kulshan looms from beyond the destiny of many moons
There is a certain slant of light
About in the sky, the clouds, of every hue of blue.
When the sun goldens the exposed terrain
There is a certain slant of light
Just a moment on her mount at the end of the rain
When the clouds surround her foaming breast, we remain.
In this ordinary day she proclaims the extraordinary
There is a certain slant of light
From opaque opals to slate greys
From moment to moment dancing mystical light parades.
Kulshan stands alone in evenings
Reaching to the stars in Prayer.
There is a certain slant of light
From Salish shores to her glaciers of white pink ice
Kulshan meets our gaze each time more than twice
Steepling above the green Her purple heights
Too lovely and deep, profound like Yequila in flight
Her Majesty enchanting centuries of Lhaq’temish Life.