Although I’ve stood overlooking these vast tundras,
Admiring Mountain View’s
I had never experienced their glory in the midst of summer—
Nor shared them with the man I love.
I wanted to write pages about our time in the Rockies.
Yet each time I lifted my pen or touched the keys,
Words caught in my throat,
And tears welled in my eyes.
The beauty was too grand for sentences.
Brooks babbled and creeks meandered,
Carrying with them every worry, every weight.
The sun danced on lily pads—
Floating freely, unbothered—
While the mountains stood,
Steady and strong,
Guarding us from the noise of the world.
Life pulsed all around me,
And made mine feel small—
Not in shame or comparison,
But in awe.
I was alive.
Laughter rose into the crisp air
As we played like children—
Spotting marmots, chipmunks,
And more wildlife than we imagined.
We paused beside rushing waterfalls,
Smiled at wildflowers spilling color like paint across the hills.
I’ve always loved this place deeply,
But seeing him on one knee—
I felt as tall as the trees,
As calm as the still lake before us,
As strong as the ancient peaks.
Yes, I am small in the mountains.
But no mountain compares
To how grand he makes me feel—
Growing with me,
Changing with me,
Always loving me.
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