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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.

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