O dearest Mountains,

our living forefathers
carrying untold burdens of time immemorial
though looking ravaged and jaded
every inch of your muscle and persona
epitomizing heroic grit
showing us the way
running through, around and over the obstacles

our only pathway to the clouds
caressing over-burdened nimbuses and their kin
offering them a motherly lap of home and solitude
calming down their thunderous excursions
helping them lighten their cargo
giving the parched lands and throats beneath
a life-giving succor and relief from the sunny onslaught
holding the nectar from the heavens
in containers big and small
handing out to your children, unadulterated ambrosia
through your throbbing rivulets, spreading far and near

Standing tall and majestic
showcasing our pinnacles of prehistoric glory
keeping us grounded to our earthly origins
sharing wisdom gained from silence and survival
smiling at our follies and foibles
never hesitating to hold out the hand
to the opulent and the impoverished alike
always soothing, never discriminating.

If we do not listen to you
who will tell us our histories
with both the hush-hush and the legends, in equal measure
hidden in your vast bosoms

Bounded in structure but
unbounded in mystique and expanse.