mountains’ fear

The world gushes past me, as I shrink in an attempt to shield myself. From it’s energy, as it bellows, ringing in notes that frighten even the warriors of the air. It seizes the breath of all exhaling. But even as it does, nothing freezes entirely. Perhaps tiny fractions of what surrounds us, crystallizes into soft gems. While others evaporate and become part of a bigger meaning.

The quiet stream beside old battered rocks, allows water to flow gently from it’s peak. Still, despite trembling quivers and powdery mists of blowholes. Our mountains do not churn in it’s heat and red, instead they remain grounded and cold in dormant sleep. Slim lines between the soil maintain it’s togetherness, disallowing any seepage through. The wild birds, gather their wings and find another nest for this evening’s setting sun. They have grown afraid by means to stay alert and aware. They are awake with this heartbreaking knowing. Still, bold and still.

But we, are are crippled by fear. Staggered by thought and made slaves to these questionable pedestals we rush to build ourselves upon.

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