The wings and winds of nature blow
The pristine air through mountain trails
Up high in Cascades where the glow
Of glaciers shimmers like ship sails.
...
What shore is this... my ship still lists?
What Church slow-rising from the mists?
Where penguins lay their eggs in albatross- square,
Streams cascade down the rocky cliffside where
...
Along the foothills marsh-mists rise and fall;
Through glass I see their trail of fog across
The window-sky and sense a coming squall.
The leaves of shadow-deer and pine now toss
...