An Ode to Mt Sopris

An Ode to Mt. Sopris

So high in the bright blue Colorado sky,

You are my lighthouse,
calling me home.

Nearly thirteen thousand feet high
and thirty million years old,
you stand watch over the valley—
steady, patient, wise.

Long ago they named you
for Richard Sopris,
a mayor searching for gold.
Instead, he found something far more magnificent.

You hold the snow as long as you can,
then surrender to vibrant wildflowers.

You are home to elk and deer,
mountain goats and black bears,
hawks riding high
and songbirds greeting the dawn.

You give meaning to this valley,
inspiring artists, writers, and dreamers
to capture a beauty
that can never quite be contained.

You are the rugged summit
calling adventurers upward—
hikers, climbers, skiers,
and paragliders alike.

You are the weathervane,
offering hints but no promises,
clouds gathering around your shoulders
before surprise storms sweep through the valley.

You are my lighthouse,

guiding me home.