He lurks besides the mountain pass,

He hides within the avalanche,

He makes his home amid the snowflake white.

He waits within the forests deep,

He watches from the precipice,

He seizes whom he will where-e’er they are.

He hurls down rocks from mountain sides,

He falls the tree that crashes down,

He whispers to the serpent when to strike.

He guides the mountain lion’s spring,

He hides within the rushing stream,

He seizes those who cross and drags them down rivers.

He rides upon the wings of storms,

He hurls the lightening’s blinding flames,

He hovers in the air above the homes.

WHO AM I?

November 2, 1993