How do You Mourn a Mountain?

It’s been there your whole life.

Watching you,

Guiding you,

Always showing you a path home.

At times it would let you down.

A steady climb turned treacherous.

Rocks giving way underfoot,

All twisting ankles and scraped palms.

It was dark and the trees were thorned.

You had to build your own fires

From branches that couldn’t be bothered

To hold themselves up.

But some days-

Some days the stones would hold.

The sun didn’t beat, it shined.

Cool rivers soothed your cuts,

Bushes grew sweet fruit, and

Caves sheltered you from the cold.

Sometimes it was enough

To know the mountain was there.

Until it wasn’t.

Until you turned away from the sunrise,

To see the mountain gone.

Vanished in the morning light.

It’s gone off

To rest on a new skyline.

You’ll be left with an ache when you look,

Try not to be afraid.

The mountain may be gone,

But you have an entire forest

Waiting to grow on your horizon.