Weathering the Mountain
Morning:
Dance upon me,
graceful as I am in solidarity;
alone, tall sentry.
I see the people come out
to greet my every
structure, bearing;
how they test me!
To the top, around my head;
the echo, in all paths they tread
take to new heights, and ground me.
Learn who I am, understand
take the awe, claim your victory.
What’s there is, was,
and yet all changed;
know the secrets, not to return.
Ever grounded, never learn.
Afternoon:
Expansion, contraction;
every breath of Earth, surge through me
in outside forces, governing.
I let them shape the way I feel.
Break the rock apart, this heat
of light, I’m bathing,
cracking; couldn’t turn away,
loved as I am. Ever warm
shape me; aside my beaten form
Listen to the broken symmetry,
take a crack of the absence
where I used to feel
a hand upon my skin,
holding tight to that vision.
Were it once, and where’d it ever go?
Break the rock apart, as I grow old.
An answer, though it lingers there,
a reach I’ll neglect to know.
Evening:
Cooling, the water of a humid rain;
I confess, I get lost in the blurring
seep. A numbness left to creep
among my veins, tarnishing
a value, what’s it to me?
They take it, as they do;
I would expect the same of you.
These living things affect me
and I accept, for a glimpse of beauty;
the rays before sun sets,
a fish caught in your net,
or the bear that pulls it out the river.
In the blink of time, before the dark
I seem a marvel, ever etched
against the world grown on me.
My figure set
that you’d look upon me,
think me strong
when I’ve been weathered all along.
