Saturday, June 7, 2008


She stood like a mountain
Not out of mass or posture
but because in my eyes
she was a giant of beauty,
standing in my way,
blocking my sight of my most present goal

Now if you stare at something long enough
it is bound to become the focus
Mountains are rather hard to avoid
You can move miles to the left or right
but they never yield a clear path of sight

Once you embark on a journey over the mountain
oh how a treacherous journey it can turn out to be
and it was...
cold. As an arctic chill
long. as the range itself
But beautiful.
Enough even to cause a weary, chilled traveler
to forget where he was going in the first place.

I didn't want to press on once I was in the mountain
I wanted to lay in the dewy-spongy grass
and walk in a cool mountain brook

so I didn't... for a while...
I learned that the more time I spent in the mountain
the less I cared about... well... anything

She was like a mountain
She still is.
But I've been walking for so long away from her
that she seems smaller with each day

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