Mountain

 

There is a storm brewing and the clouds are so thick and dark,

Outside in the wilds the countryside is growing quite and stark,

In the distance there is a monstrous mountain, barren and apart,

Nothing moves on it slopes, no life, simply no spark

 

The lightning pulses down and lights up the mountains face,

The rain sheets down making small rivulets in its wake,

Small stones are dislodged and roll into the streaming rain,

The mountain is called life and its loneliness is pain.

 

Was the mountain always this way or just when set upon by storm,

Did the days always pass this way or was that just being alone?

As the thunder drums and the sound is quite deafening,

There is no sign of an ending and the storm becomes more electrifying.

 

No sunshine breaks the clouds as they continue passing over,

The mountain is cold no sign of a new summer,

The coldness of the day is now becoming heavier,

Will this storm truly pass or will it last forever?

 

Without a companion the mountain is just sad and alone,

There can be no days fulfilled without the storm changing,

For the mountain will wait for a change and another beginning,

The days will renew and sunshine must one day blossom.

 

Out of the darkness there comes a single ray of light,

So perfect and true it shines down and makes the mountainside bright,

In the shadows the trees begin to slowly still,

The rain is lessening and light becomes greater anew.

 

The stern looking mountain has changed in its aspect,

Light is shining and showing what the darkness has hidden,

The mountain is patience and the promise of life is unbidden,

The mountain has time and a heart that remains quietly beating.