Departing before dawn to a land of endless sunshine,
rays that serve to remind me of those spots inside my mind.
Spots that shift on the glowing surface and taint the light,
tempered and dissolved for a moment at the sight of that valley.
In this land before and beyond thoughts of time
we swing beneath monoliths, climb upon brilliant ridges of granite, and dance to the top of the world.
Steps falter but do not become trials as we count up the miles,
and each day as the light falls over and away from this valley we are beings forever young.
What is it that brings to us all this strange lack of auspiciousness,
this grokking of the world which leads itself without needing
and leaves itself without question?
I am brought again and again to the moment that we stood at the captain and suddenly could comprehend our size,
ants among immortals,
staring at a god without a prize.
And then of course we climb anyways, a wave of fearlessness kept in phase.
But even as I stood upon the half crown looking down I saw the captain
and again I was small.
On top of the world but never above it all.
Endless smiles the valley of the giants brings,
we eat our pizza, laugh and sing, and return so much more relaxed
to the land of men again.
And when we look upon the sea it is endless as ever,
but now we compare it to the great granite captain.
You asked, what is god to me?
God is what reminds us that we are small,
and thus brings us together so that we may climb it all.
Yosemite Valley from Vista Point, from Wikipedia.