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Poem


Eons ago I felt my birth,
as my two parents collided,
and I arrived -crumpled and folded upward
rugged and jagged with a body of ever-changing rock.
Unlike the ordinary human child,
I don’t ever get to reach my final full height.
As I grow, I am assaulted by wind-blown sand
chewing away at me. Streams of water 
carry chunks of me beyond the base of me.
I get shorter, but then my parental plates collide again
and I regain my former stature or even get taller
until severe weather assures I will not remain
the tallest I’ve ever been.

They say I am rock, so I am not alive,
but humans do not know of feelings I have.
Do I fear death? Much longer do I live
compared to you.
I live to see generations of you come and go,
come and go, moving about in the valleys
beneath my feet, ever changing my view..
With sharp tools, you clutch me as you climb my cliffs.
Do I cry out in pain? You tread my rocky bones,
creating pathways upward to my head, 
where you breathe the freshest of air
and where snow adorns me. I wear many caps of snow
as I stretch for miles across boundless land.
Trees and plants and grass also adorn me,
sweeping across me with wild abandon,
making me a habitat for creatures large and small.

In my cleared spaces, you sometimes build cabins.
Enticed by the fleet-footed deer, you arrive with weapons
whose sound is loud and whose aim is deadly.
I watch with amusement as you speed down my slopes
when snow upon me is powdery and deep.
Yes, you humans come and go, and I,
the mighty mountain - with my many siblings
and baby hills - stand like sentries,
seemingly ever-lasting to you, who look up at us in awe.
You can never know my simple pleasures.
Nor can you fathom the suffering I endure
as so very slowly I crumble away.

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