Gliding through the veins of America 

We descended into a cold and tranquil valley;

Gazing up at a rocky ridge, 

Blanketed in crisp, white crystals tightly-woven,

An alpine fleece untrodden, soft and coy

Sovereign and seemingly cognizant 

Of its own greatness

Lilac clouds drift carelessly above us 

Allowing for precious windows 

Of velvety chiaroscuro;

Sleepy evergreens bathed in golden light 

Line the road home in veiled pragmatism— impending

      

         For a moment

We forget the woes of the world 

 

The sun is behind us now 

Beckoning our inevitable return

To this peaceful place,

Where life lies suspended in fleeting languor