Mountains rising to the clouds
Snowy peaks the mist enshrouds
Stones protrude above the trees
Bent down by the mountain’s breeze.
Glaciers grinding down the stones
Lay to light the ancient bones -
Ocean creatures touch the sky
Where the birds no longer fly.
Continents are moving, crush
Mountains and their glaciers, rush
Stones and ice up to the edge -
Sky and space meet stony wedge.
Air is light, with cold embrace -
Icy cap on stony face -
Orchids on the twisted limbs,
Greening cliffs up to their rims.
Death is stalking, white and gray,
Springs upon the goats at play,
Drunken on their joy of life,
Cut off by the leopard’s knife.
Glaciers trickle in the light,
Dripping down through every tight
Crevice in the mountain’s face
Winding in a hidden lace.
Rivers form from trickling streams,
Merging like an author’s dreams
Into epics grander than
Mountains — they fall short of man.
Originally published at http://troycamplinpoetry.blogspot.com.