Mountains are designed to be cold. They make me feel dwarfed and inconsequential. Then, I pity their immobility. I’m blessed with flexibility to move, change my position, escape from things I don’t like.
Yet, mountains intimidate. They drop a rock here and there to demonstrate power. The uncertainty dwarfs my mindset again.
I’d like to talk to the mountains, once they shed their icy exteriors and look warm and inviting, or burning with rage.
who knows what
lies beneath the ice
worlds await
Creative Experiments and More 
I am not sure I would want to know what the mountains know.
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Humans interpret rocks and fossils with their lens. We never know what they know.
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Reblogged this on NEW BLOG HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Lovely poem.
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Thank you, Diana!
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nice personification and contemplations, Reena 🙂
-David
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Thank you, David!
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There is a mountain of wealth buried in the bosoms of the mountains. They fascinate me so!
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Snow melts, but mountains hold their secrets.
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