Tuesday, July 14, 2015

This poem comes from my experience of climbing the trail (particularly the stairs near the end) to Vernal Falls at Yosemite National Park in California.
                                                       
                                                      I climbed the stoney stairs again,
After seeing mules and mares again.
Their endless ascension wore me out,
I walked as if I had some grout.

They turned and curved all about
It seemed, as usual, an endless route.
I huffed and puffed my way along,
While the water played its thundering song.

I hiked along the narrow case,
Close against the wall, a steady pace,
Seeing all the rocks so far below
That God had thrown there long ago.

Finally, tired, I reached the awesome top,
Awed, to see God's glory made me stop.
To see this and still an atheist be?
I could not, for who else made me?

I climb these stoney stares within.
Jesus won't climb Golgotha Hill again.
He died there once and rose for you and me,
Yet still an atheist will you be?

~ Elisabeth~
This is the falls from below. If you look at other pictures of Vernal you will see that we definitely came in the dry season.
The seemingly endless stairs.
The view from the top.



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