Awakening

A snow capped mountain sits on the horizon

Tall peak looking out over the distance

Lying still amidst small movement on cragged slopes

Nature running its' course and chipping away

It has been here a long, long time

Hardening, aging, wearing away

Majestic origins hidden by crumbling edges

A hard topped windswept rock over flowing trees

But there is movement beginning inside

A pulse, evident only in the mountain itself

A rumbling here, a warm spot there

Veins of life moving throughout

Fissures appear, steam vents

Rock ledges tremble and quiver

Movement on the slopes alert inhabitants

Majestic mountain begins to wake

A rumbling occurs, forces impact

How the mountain moves inside

Snow on its ledges begin to melt

Tears of water trickle from thawing ice

A large shift in the rock happens

And lava begins to ooze out here and there

Pieces of the mountain itself are glowing

Molten beginning to peek out of its' shell

An explosion near the peak

Moves everything around

No longer slumbering

There is force within to be realized

Hot lava runs down cragged slopes

Altering the face of the mountain

Tears of water once evident

Long gone from the heat released

The mountain is alive again

No longer pretending to sleep

Beginning from inside itself

The mountain creates new life

My first poem, from meeting Edgar Boone at dinner and reawakening my love of writing. Thanks Edgar. I realized how much it means to me, and how I felt as if I was the mountain awakening to flow with words, melting the hardness I have surrounded myself with. Sitting on the balcony of the "crustic" cabins at Lake George, this flowed as the lava within it. 9/07