You are like snow, tightly packed to the side of a mountain crag.
You melt away every year to bring fresh water.
(All year round)

You are like the first sight of that mountain, and every glimpse of it after that.

You are like the smell of that snow.

Or just knowing that the smell is there.

You are like all the odd places I've slept but remember vividly,
A strange, sequestered dream
Held fast to something like a bead of water.

Running on golden, not gossamer strings

Strings that form the lines on every face
And every seam.

Strings that line the clouds
That turn to storms
To swallow me

You carved my body and the grain said Awe,
You are the rightness of roots in the dirt.

There are roots in my bones;
May i fruit by your work!

You are the whirring clockwork of evolution,
You are nature's scream
Pregnant with love
An agent above
You are so pristine