When the mountain says no,
today is not your turn,
how do you respond?
Do you bow your head
and turn for another day,
or keep pressing on?
Perhaps you've been lucky
to acquire belief
that you can always ascend.
Or, maybe, luckier still,
you've fallen at times,
and nodding, descend.
Thumping your way down,
away from heart's content,
you follow the river.
I've been there myself,
the water's hush and hold
helping me forgive her.
Exchanging words, I've confessed,
it was easier
to just pass on through.
Flowing down and around
the rocks and branches,
until I'm split in two.
But today, I thought, no. No!
I am not a river
with nothing else to seek.
I am a mountain.
A mountain!
And it is to the mountains I wish to speak.
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