Colorado, Near Hancock (July 2014)

Lord, they say a town was here,
        the material evidence confirms;
two hundred people at 11,500 ft.,
        many saloons, little wonder.

A lone hiker comes by,
        thirteen days on the trail;
two others repair damage,
        afflicted by the road.

Clouds amble across the divide,
        a perfectly blue backdrop;
the tree line is within arm’s reach,
        lone pines determined to live.

Flowers love this place,
        broad carpets of green
with yellow and blue specks;
        granite that refuses to give way.

I listen to a conversation
        two hundred yards away;
hear the water running
        on its infinite journey.

Lord, your world amazes me;
        to see creation undisturbed
by our hubris—our pride:
        we can make everything better.

The world moves by slowly,
        everything in its own way;
birds after butterflies,
        a breeze through trees.

Lord, this place shouts your praise,
        a choir robed in green and blue;
what else can we do,
        but join in the refrain:
        All things praise thee so do we.

Amen

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