Cascading over Larch Mountain with a surge of power, your majestic force chills the rocks far below.
Sunlight filters through you like a prism, creating rainbows of color in contrast to the white spray.
During the dark hours of pre-dawn, your ever present music seems to crescendo into the oblivious sleeping valley.
One winter you were silenced when you froze into a giant icicle, like a stalactite on the side of mountain, reaching toward the cave of earth.
What a wonderful time the creator must have had, surely He laughed as he made a path for you to follow.
His fingerprints remain imprinted on the cliffs, along the winding Columbia River Gorge.
It must have been a favorite playground of His.