The morning sun tempts
through pine tree tops
Like a strong hand into a candle lit room
Ahead, the sun dapples the earth
Saplings dance, tickled by sun
through dazzling dewdrops,
tantalizing, well placed,
the dance lures me.
At the top of a hill
Silvery luminescence bursts forth
from snow dusted pines
The glow. . .
Below, an icy stream gouges
sharp through rock, mud, snow. . .
endless rolling, running, rushing