High on the mountaintops,
A sheet of snow
Lies with perplexity,
Of why it moves when - OH!
A “Yodel-ehh” resonates through the mounds,
As men in ornate costume play pipes with bags.
A pauper and a wanderer listen:
One dressed for adventure, one in rags.
All of a sudden, a demon roars.
An abominable snowman of sorts:
An mudslide of white,
the fine white quartz
Rushes down with an intensity
So strong, so brazen.
The anger of mother Gaia
Seems to have been awaken.
Now the pauper and the wanderer,
Both misunderstood,
No different at the face of God,
Run as fast as they could.
It was hopeless in the presence of wrath.
As the pauper shielded the wanderer with his cloak,
The wanderer shielded the pauper
With the heat of his body as he spoke.
Although those words were never heard that day,
The good will of both men
Reached God in such a peculiar way,
That he had saved them, for another ride on a sleigh.