Hail, precipice of solid rock!
From ground to clouds the sky you’ve climbed,
While lesser things the earth will walk,
In Babel’s shadow left to talk.
Adorned with clouds and hid from sight
Your tops are veiled with densest fog.
And yet, I’d face uncertain fright
If I but once could reach your height.
Among my fears, which is my test?
The mountain tall or clouded thought?
From which will I first seek some rest
When strength is gone and doubt expressed?
Dear Brother, you have gone before
With sixteen stones for glowing light.
I ask again, please, pray once more
That I, too, might have knowledge sure.
Consider mountain, rock, and stone,
With clouds and fog that veil the Light.
The obstacle that hides the throne
Is also that which makes Him known.
Just as the Lord without disguise
Stretched forth his hand and touched the stones,
The veil was taken from your eyes
And doubt gave way to parted skies.
When few with faith are thus endowed
Shall I with hope appraise my own
By mountains climbed, which veils enshroud,
Or my comfort among the clouds?
Hail, Brother! Thou that stands
Upon Mount Shelem, nigh with God,
With eighteen stones now in thy hands
To light the way to distant lands.
And so it is when you return,
You bring the height of mountains back
Deep in your heart where hope will yearn,
Then I with faith will start to learn.