On a mountain near Piancavallo,
I met God one afternoon ;
After the snow–dusting had faded,

Alone except for a hang–glider fluttering
And a distant hawk graceful in the air
Circling the thermals—

A moment of oneness : enlightened;
Anointed.   In those sacrosanct minutes :
A stillness that stretched out forever ;

The wind that brought the afternoon rain
Cooled my warm spirit
Longing to be the lift under the hawk’s wingspan,
Past the gravity .

The Lord walked in the cool of the day,
Rustled the shades of green
Painting the crown of the Dolomites—
There were no words, but I understood .