Snowflower

The morning mountain peaks rugged and steep are popping white in the morning sun after a fresh coat of snow, a brightness as fresh as a sunflowers yellow in a summer sun, and so I imagine these mountain peaks glowing in the sun as a snowflower, and like a flower there for a season, until melting, it flows down mountain streams, to my feet, where with care I cast a line, in a gentle valley below the mountains, and the first light of the sun finally kisses the frost-coated earth around me with a touch of welcome warmth, and another day comes awake, seeming to yawn and stretch with me, as it sheds the cold dark of night, after the stars have disappeared, and in the midst of this wilderness wonder, like the snowflower,  I melt and flow with contentment in mountain dreams, and I am happy.