Two mountains

Written from a vantage point high on a trail through mountains:


Two mountains

In the district of lakes and peaks,
one mountain top spoke to another,
their words of rhyme and prose
carried on clouds that crowned their snow capped heads.
'How I weep for those times when once no clouds
Passed between our sky touched mouths'
spoke one, as the winter's first snows
winded down it's sides in glacial tears.
'There was a time when our faces pressed against each other
In an embrace I thought would last forever.
Now the earth has opened up a valley to separate us,
so that we can no longer touch.
And the other replied,
'True, we are now apart where once we were one.
But this separation is to be celebrated,
and not to be mourned.
This valley across which we gaze,
through the reflected snows of winter,
the pine greens of summer,
the dancing blossom of spring
and the fickle browns of autumn.
This valley is a thing of beauty,
bejewelled as it is by a diamond lake.
What greater joy might shiver through my slopes, then to see your reflection in it's crystal waters.'