Hiking the Sublime

I follow in the footsteps of poets past
As I saunter along a well-trod trail
In the Swiss Alps.
Snow-covered crags puncture the
Blinding blue sky.
Rivers of ice slither like snakes
Through the ancient rock.
In the distance, a rainbow bends
Delicately across a waterfall
That flows from the granite cliff,
As if the rock were weeping.
The water then flows into a crystalline lake
That reflects the towering peaks on its
Calm blue surface.  
The romantic bards of old sought
To communicate with the divine
In these sublime mountains.
I do not seek to unveil the supernatural
As I greedily ingest the panorama before me.
I merely wish to linger in a scene
That is solemn and serene.
I want nothing more than to be bathed