I see the highest mountain, and you are at the very top.

I then imagine myself climbing restlessly–if I climb just far enough, fast enough–will I capture a glimpse of you?

Will I follow you through thick clouds and into heaven?

From down here I gaze at the mountain’s peak, beholding its beauty.

At this peak you stand; at this peak you sit.

The sun’s rays shine on you, their warmth comforting you.

The rain cleanses your soul, suggesting rebirth.

At the top of this mountain you are rejoicing, you are free.

From down here, how I long to sit with thee.