Moving Mountains

I know that you

might not accept it,

but this steel grey sky

isn’t going to compromise.

It’s just going to rain

until it gets dark,

very dark.

The kind of dark

that only lets the street lights

throw shadows

and burn dimly.

Soaking up the light,

an endless, drowned holocaust.


Faith can move a mountain,

but why the heck

would anyone want to?

You can go through it,

or over it,

or around;

if faith is so powerful,

then can’t it be used elsewhere?

Maybe that’s all it’s good for;

shifting the blue crag peaks

this way and that,

wherever we need them,

like some strange superpower;


but not very practical.


Here comes the rain

and now,

I really miss those mountains.

I miss the feeling

of being surrounded

by sentinels.

Safety in the foundations,

in the fundamentals,

in the peaks and forests

that raised me.


We can wish the sky

were not rain grey

and there were more mountains,

but our safety these days

is in our own hands.

it always was.

Our destiny,

invariably intermingled

with the warp and weft

of our reality.


Our superpower

isn’t moving mountains;

it’s adaptability.

So let’s sit here

and see if we can make

the mountains come to us.


HG  – 2018

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