Mountain Poem by David Taylor

Sitting at the feet of mountains
how distant, awe inspiring
the highest snow capped peak
where no shadow creeps
from the rising dawn to sleep.

And at that peak of ice and snow
where just a few brave souls go
how they survey what lies below;
see the destiny of melting snow,
see there is no place higher
than that which they now know.

Seated in the centre still
beyond the reach of climbing,
below the depths of diving
no end is out of reach;
what meaning in either
gentle slopes of mountains' feet
or awe inspiring snowy peaks?