A mountain top meditation

I met with God on the mountain today.

But God was not in the cold wind or driving rain,

nor in the litter caught between the rocks.

God was not in the misplaced hope of the false summit,

nor in the desire to give up climbing and turn around.

God was not in the cloud that obscured the way ahead,

nor in the frustration of the child made to wait for others.

God was not in the weary cry of “are we nearly there yet”,

nor in the false reassurance of “just around this bend”.

But I saw signs of God in the well-trod path and the map maker’s skill,

in strong shoes and protective clothing.

There were signs of God in those carrying an extra load on behalf of others,

and in the volunteers repairing the path.

There were signs of God in the smiles and greetings of walkers passing each other,

and the cairns guiding the way through the cloud and mist.

There were signs of God in the views that declared

the wonder and promise of creation,

and in the exhilaration of reaching the summit.

And God was in the still small voice

A voice of peace declared at 1343m

A voice declared to tired but happy hikers

A voice that needs to be heard

On every mountain top and every plain

A voice that needs to be heard

In every human heart and every human action.