I lifted my eyes to the mountains
the heavens towered over them
I stepped up the pitch
stopping to stand in their faces
the heaves towered over them
I stepped on each wrinkle and crease to the top
My summit was not the apex of stone
the overlook or the pass
nor was it the ascent of spirit
It was to look upon all the Lord has made
who made me and made his own
The Lord is your keeper
the shade on your right hand
the sun will not strike you down by day
nor the moon by night
Above the mountain
I raise my fist
help has come
help is here
the heavens tower over me
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For more of Grant Hope, you can find books, audio visual poetry, and his “Poetry Respite” newsletter at his website: granthopestudios.com