I won’t chisel a spirit to make
It resemble some other formation,
Like the sculptors of the faces
On the rocks.
I love the mountains more
When their jagged edges and
Sun-kissed outcrops
Create patterns all their own;
Granite spires, volcanically
Windblown,
Unabashedly wild,
No artist’s signature
Laying claim to the beautiful
Potential of the stone;
Only the forces of the
Universe
Determine our growth.
Like Crazy Horse,
I want to be brave,
Paint streaks of lightning on
My face;
Look to the mountains and scream,
I love you
Just like that,
Untamed.