Climbing a mountain to find you a poem.

Silence,
just an ocean of mountains
and the rhythmic crunch,
stopping when I stopped,
in the icy snow.
Silence jangling my thoughts,
heart drumming with excitement
and she, between the peaks of untouched snow
flashed icy diamonds.

I was alone,
dark clouds and evening closing in,
the summit path a crampon track of giant caterpillars,
dark clouds and evening closing in
as slowly I returned.

Beside a solitary birch I read its frozen waterfall,
the story of a glacier,
of giant boulders that had fallen since
and waited the returning ice
to journey on.

The birch spoke too
of woodland days,
and nights,
warm with its fire.