She is a mountain,
Dark and strong,
She is a mountain but sometimes
When I sit for a while on the ground, beside her,
I hear the rumble of all the rocks that have built her,
And I reply to them, to her
And we have conversations in a strange language
Until it is over -it never lasts long,
And she stands there, unfazed, as I leave.
She is dark,
She’s a mystery that could answer questions I don’t dare to ask.
She seems to stand still,
As if not caring was bliss;
Yet I know she does,
I know she has when I’ve seen a smile play on her thick skin.
The first and permanent impression she’s left in everyone’s mind.
I have to agree,
I have to confess I do feel intimidated by the way she keeps everybody at bay somehow being quite kind still.
Once or twice she’s taken me close to an entrance, though.
I remember the dusky sun in her eyes and, the smile,
And the nervous rumble of her laughter.
And the rough matter covering her mind, so close.
Warm in a way.
I never tried to get any further.
I was too scared of her.
Am too scared of her.
Perhaps I should
One step at a time,
Yes, gorgeous woman coated in rock,
At last, with you.
— LG ; Things I learnt in loving - Black mountain