The Mountain in the Mist

Step out the front door and what a sight you behold

Such a vision, so tall, the top is shrouded in cloud

Snowfall hides the green of the clinging trees

So precarious and lonely in their silent beauty

The forlorn peak looking down on our busy world

as we rush here and rush there, yet we never move

The old mountain soars above it all

A silent witness to our troubles and pain

So cold it looks at it’s jagged peak,

looking out my picture-window

It’s somehow calming as it keeps it’s lonely vigil

It’s never-changing silence in a world filled with sound

Upon it’s slopes, many creatures call it home

And below, people cling to it’s slopes in desperation

It’s the one constant thing in a world of sudden change

How many people have you seen come and go?

How many heartaches have you heard people cry?

You’ve been there for ages, yet you never say a word

You keep all our secrets, a silent, towering ghost

Unbroken by time, unaffected by storms

Seemingly forever with your sun-drenched flanks

Like an eternal friend we can tell our troubles to

You reach the sky, yet are close enough to touch

Vast distance, yet your nearness we can feel

You’re the mountain we can talk to; the mountain in the mist