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.
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