I Lift Up Mine Eyes

I lift up mine eyes unto the hills,
Faint blue, indistinct in mists; courageous lines
Yet outlined clear against the cold, grey sky.
I chant a joyful tune unto the wind,
For he is wild and cold and joyous free.
My cheeks are rosy red, my pockets deep
In which to thrust my hands.
I own a swinging stride.
I muse through gentle dusk: my poem book,
Limp-leather bound, its pages frayed,
Held tenderly.
Outside the gloom is falling softly with the snow,
I know that Life is beautiful.