As I stand before the dark silhouette against a sunset sky,
My mind fills with awe at the sights before my eye.
I can only marvel at what abounds everywhere,
But the question remains, “What is my purpose here?”
The cool mountain breath flows gently through my sleeves.
My heart leaps and I tremble like quaking aspen leaves.
Majesty and beauty beyond compare,
But I find no answers in the cool mountain air.
Is it just an accident, or am I guided by the hand
Of a Master Artist, creator of this wondrous land?
The snow tipped peaks, the lush green meadows,
And the tall grass of the rolling prairie,
All provide solace and contentment to a soul that is weary.
But the question remains unanswered for me.
Is it all some random event,
Or by the Master’s hand have I been sent?
Blue-green spruce climb toward a snow-tipped peak,
Still what is the answer to the question I seek?
What is my purpose in this new and majestic land?
This garden fit for the gods, but free to all man?