Mt. Shasta : 1st Chakra of the Earth

[@zeynepbensenavuncan7206]

This perfect melody by @artheus is like a duet with the poetry in your soul, let yourself go with the flow of the melody.🙏💚💚💚💚 Mount Shasta John Rollin Ridge Behold the dread Mt. Shasta, where it stands Imperial midst the lesser heights, and, like Some mighty unimpassioned mind, companionless And cold. The storms of Heaven may beat in wrath Against it, but it stands in unpolluted Grandeur still; and from the rolling mists upheaves Its tower of pride e’en purer than before. The wintry showers and white-winged tempests leave Their frozen tributes on its brow, and it Doth make of them an everlasting crown. Thus doth it, day by day and age by age, Defy each stroke of time: still rising highest Into Heaven! Aspiring to the eagle’s cloudless height, No human foot has stained its snowy side; No human breath has dimmed the icy mirror which It holds unto the moon and stars and sov’reign sun. We may not grow familiar with the secrets Of its hoary top, whereon the Genius Of that mountain builds his glorious throne! Far lifted in the boundless blue, he doth Encircle, with his gaze supreme, the broad Dominions of the West, which lie beneath His feet, in pictures of sublime repose No artist ever drew. He sees the tall Gigantic hills arise in silentness And peace, and in the long review of distance Range themselves in order grand. He sees the sunlight Play upon the golden streams which through the valleys Glide. He hears the music of the great and solemn sea, And overlooks the huge old western wall To view the birth-place of undying Melody! Itself all light, save when some loftiest cloud Doth for a while embrace its cold forbidding Form, that monarch mountain casts its mighty Shadow down upon the crownless peaks below, That, like inferior minds to some great Spirit, stand in strong contrasted littleness! All through the long and Summery months of our Most tranquil year, it points its icy shaft On high, to catch the dazzling beams that fall In showers of splendor round that crystal cone, And roll in floods of far magnificence Away from that lone, vast Reflector in The dome of Heaven. Still watchful of the fertile Vale and undulating plains below, the grass Grows greener in its shade, and sweeter bloom The flowers. Strong purifier! From its snowy Side the breezes cool are wafted to the “peaceful Homes of men,” who shelter at its feet, and love To gaze upon its honored form, aye standing There the guarantee of health and happiness. Well might it win communities so blest To loftier feelings and to nobler thoughts- The great material symbol of eternal Things! And well I ween, in after years, how In the middle of his furrowed track the plowman In some sultry hour will pause, and wiping From his brow the dusty sweat, with reverence Gaze upon that hoary peak. The herdsman Oft will rein his charger in the plain, and drink Into his inmost soul the calm sublimity; And little children, playing on the green, shall Cease their sport, and, turning to that mountain Old, shall of their mother ask: “Who made it?” And she shall answer,-“GOD!” And well this Golden State shall thrive, if like Its own Mt. Shasta, Sovereign Law shall lift Itself in purer atmosphere-so high That human feeling, human passion at its base Shall lie subdued; e’en pity’s tears shall on Its summit freeze; to warm it e’en the sunlight Of deep sympathy shall fail: Its pure administration shall be like The snow immaculate upon that mountain’s brow!

[@Crystalfullerfitness]

Loved this! Helped put me to sleep so gently on a cloud ☁️ ☁️☁️