Covered in a sea of fog and dying to be seen,
the mountains stand taller than ever.
They remain stable, unmoving;
Yet they are more alive than you or I.
Life within the mountains is grim.
Though it is presently filled with flora and fauna,
Its past is instilled within each decaying rock and dreary cave.
Its previous life etched in stones and underground spirit.
Its stone structure carries it strong.
Mounds of dirt and grass keep it cool
as the sun’s rays try to penetrate the clouds.
It stands taller, even through the heat.
The sunlight crawls over its steep hills and flower patches.
So alive, so pristine, it remains still.
The mountain’s silence is its voice-
its existence is louder than any sound.
It stands more balanced than any being.
Remote ground on a constantly moving Earth.
Craters and hills roll together on crumbled dirt.
Beauty at its deepest roots.