The Mountain

Some throwback poetry from 2011…

The Mountain

There are pale sandstone cliffs

Dyed crimson and amethyst

By the whims of mineral infusions

And tides that carve their caverns patiently

Brushing away the crumbling sand and leaving

With a rush, tumbling across the rocks like laughter.

 

There are ancient forests untamed

Branches reaching ever upwards

To embrace the dawn sky with

Reverent prayers

The amber blood crystallizes in their frozen limbs

At the mercy of growling winds and

Blushing, they

Drop their skirts of leaves.

 

There are wide deserts where

The survivors hunker smartly in the shade

And sip the aged liquor of a cactus

Minding the needles,

Until the darkness rolls in with bravado

And beholds the fiery eyes of

Snakes cooling

On the dusty bones of the less fortunate.

 

There is a grey mountain

Encircled by its rightful crown of milky fog

And thrust against the shore of a lake

So taken it is with its own reflection

So taken was I

When your lips caressed the valley of my throat

And drank from the well of my lips deeply

You became the mountain

Defending me

And I became the lake

Quenching you.

(EJM 2011)

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