MORNING IN IDAHO

Sunlight begins to spill
Over the rocky peaks,
Bathing the valley below,
In its cleansing flow,
Sparkling brilliance flashes,
In the pre-dawn luster,
Off individual snowflakes,
That blanket the slopes,
Slopes so steep-so high,
America's Himalayas,
Touching the sky,
Mighty winds twirl snow,
About the tallest ridge,
Appearing as whimpsical whirlwinds,
Tossed by playful gnomes,
An eagle soars,
Much lower than the summits,
White head glows,
With the first rays of sun,
Her cry echoes,
Off the icy valley walls.
My day will start,
Before the hour dies,
Yet for now I revel,
In this gift from God.