Rock cathedrals, dusting of snow on them,
gaze down, silent, much seen.
They will last the winter.
They have weathered many storms and winters.
Spring and summer season of the journey
finished for the golden larches, no return
to beginnings, their season in time over and
done.
Final autumn gift, thin needles turn golden
yellow, high alpine trails carpeted in soft
larch middens, pathways to walk for those,
carving their way to the high regions, easing
their journey, trees aglow like lanterns, beckoning
to another dimension.
Snow returns, golden needles fade, return to the
soil, final autumn phase bountiful beauty, a royal
road for others to walk.