Hadn't seen the sun in awhile. When it turned up today, poetry happened. Mountain Glory-Song For two weeks I thought the sun Was playing hide-and-find And tag-and-dash And blind-man-bluff— A fortnight of teasing games Of almost and not quite, And maybe tomorrow— But today the sun came up and stayed, And I realized— Sun never left, clouds just tricked My view—my eyes were the Trouble, my vision Too weak to poke Through to outer-space. Today the sun breaks out— The mountain sings its glory And I stand witness To the whole, great organ Of mountainous joy— The birds begin it— An ecstasy of towhee pipe song And warbler trills And camp-robber scree! scree! scrah! And the thrushes, of course— Running melodies over The rocks like streams of Snow-melt—nobody ever could beat a Thrush for song And then the crickets take it up With the grass-fiddlers. And the mountain opens up its stops— Every one— And lets loose sforzando Dragonflies dance with swall