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If mountain were a poem                  



He would be a risen bend of earth ripped open

to an aspiration of rock reaching for the stars,

a beautiful birthmark on the left hip of Gaia,

He, mountain, separating from She, still

spreading tundra, while they remain one.

He would hum the love song of blue heron

soothing the sea as it danced along Her shore.

He would melt as molten magma into fantastic

sculptures to caress Her sensuous soil,

capture moisture from the wind

to fertilize Her seeds having blown in on a wish

to become a scrawny bush

blooming once yearly,

a flower on Mountain's love affair

with His luscious Earth

© Sharon Lopez Mooney, “If mountain were a poem”, orignally published in {R}évolution Review, ed.Murielle Mobengo, Spring, NY, Paris, London, 2022

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