The silence of the towering peaks,
Piercing cobalt Christmas skies,
Envelopes me in quiet peace,
No city folk would recognize.
For here, in silence Christmas speaks
To hearts and minds with hope-filled eyes,
Not in raucous, rowdy shrieks,
But in quiet, whispered sighs.
No rushing crowds, no noisy streets,
No flashing signs to advertize,
High Country Christmas slowly sneaks
Into my mountain paradise.
Announced by chilling cold that creeps
Down the steepest mountainsides,
By mammals’ hibernation sleeps,
And long wild geese’s migration flights.
Snow-smooth valleys, crystal creeks,
Shaggy spruce in winter guise,
Bare-branch aspen
Sleeping ’til soft spring arrives.
Here, Nature’s starkness strips from me
The Christmas cares that cloud our minds,
The superficiality;
Renewed, my focus realigns.
I see that every life must seek
The strength required to survive;
Then, as a species we succeed,
And through cooperation, thrive.
The silence of the towering peaks,
Piercing cobalt Christmas skies,
Envelopes me in quiet peace,
Restores my soul, and clears my eyes.
Lynn Ahlgren
Durango
