Thursday, March 17, 2016

The Wind and the Mountain

I am the wind.
Hail and ice.
Water and daggers of obsidian. 
I speak my mind, and cut with shade.
I bless the earth with my wet dance, and flowers to bloom.
Healing mist of a morning due.
Deathly hollow screams in the night.
Cool breeze on a sunny day.
And there you stand, mountain.
The one who does not fear or tremble or bend to my push.
Unyielding in your admiration of my chest and thrust.
You see me.
You smile.
And you stand there.
Absorbing my dew.
In your valleys I rest my head.
Hugged by your minerals and metals.
Enriched is the soil of our love.
Beautiful is the sunset against the clouds of our heaven.

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