by Trish Cozart
Gazing from an eagle’s lofty window
at sky with such a varied hue,
A dusty trail of rosy clouds aglow
have never boasted so grand a view.
Soft rays of newborn light gloss the ice
revealing hidden jewels upon the Earth.
These diamonds will not sell for any price.
Their treasured value is only beauty’s worth.
A cirque unfolds as shadows disappear,
time’s glacial monument for patient work.
Nature through the window pane seems so clear
Why must we, still, behind this glass fort lurk.
And while we try its beauty to possess
Destruction shows – the more becomes the less.