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Dance with the Mountain

In a world of white where mountains call, And icy trees stand white and tall, We carve our path down snowy glades, Our love of skiing never fades. Beneath the sky so vast and clear, The mountain whispers, drawing us near, With every turn, with every glide, We follow where its spirits guide. Through powdered fields and snowy peaks, With silent whispers, the mountain speaks, The dance begins with graceful turns, Whispering winds our ears discern. Our skis, they trace a fleeting line, In sync with rhythms so divine, We twist and turn, we rise and fall, In nature's arms, we’re held in thrall. The mountain leads, we do not fight, In harmony, we enjoy the flight, With every run, with every chance, We join the mountain in the dance. The joy of freedom, wild and true, In every snowflake’s crystal hue, We find a peace, a perfect blend, Where mountain and the spirit mend. So let us ski, let us embrace, The snowy dance in this sacred place, For skiing is a dance, indeed, Where the mountain always takes the lead.