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Again, a poem submitted by one of us.

 

These Mountains are Moved
 
(For all the mountains.  Forgive us.)

It is here, in this place
of relief and strong breath
that rocks seep
the juice of life.
They crack a smile as we pass,
with bristly tops spitting in the wind.
 
These mountains are the ancients
having risen to cradle
the babes of now.
On their bellies they lay, upon the body skin,
their rounded shoulders and arms
shelter living seeds of time.
 
The weight and pungence of long embrace
turn hugs to chokes.  As babes will do,
we claw at these arms like a madman defied.
We scratch and maul and pierce them too.
With iron and wheel and will
these mountains are moved.

 

                 Mercedes Lee