A Mountain’s Idea of Love

A mountain sits And a river flows A mountain suffers her tears And the infiltration of life Wildflowers necklace it As the goats dance up and down its rocky parts. It can wiggle off snow as well as a buffalo a gnat Knowing it will be better for the snow to leave for awhile and come back when it has changed from its journey back. The mountain stays And only changes slowly And it comforts the variable lives That tend toward a flippant love All around it How weak is a volcano to succumb to its burning lust? How selfish. A mountain is our shoulder It endures the triviality and variability of short bursts of butterflies In the meadow Constantly And outliving most of us. Like the crying sky whose tears fall on him And forget on a sunny day that he will always be her shoulder Even when there are clouds between them.