Kathryn Sweeney Poet Dramatic Verse

The Guardian

Let our feverish mountain be free,
so she can sooth her burned skin, 
and resume her role
as supreme guardian of this land,
that we know as well as our hands,
each crevice telling a geologic story,
of splendor and might,
nature's wrathful spirit
forever leaving deep scars
that ponders even the bravest men of science.
Let our burned mountain wait,
patient as the sun,
for the rain
that will someday return
and restore our sacred mountain
back to the castle
that protects our native land.

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