Mountain Poems

by Crossroads Writers

Greetings from the Writer’s Group. At camp this year we again sponsored a writing workshop, “WRITING IN THE ROCKIES,” and we had a very favorable response. The participants all came with open attitudes and wrote with enthusiasm on each topic suggested. Especially exciting were the results of the suggestion to write a poem as if “you are the mountain.” Each person’s poem presented his or her own unique perspective. We were so delighted with the poems that we shared them as a group at Coffee Home West, the camp talent show. We thank all who listened and supported us that night. We have submitted our poems to the Web site and the newsletter so that the wider church can read them and participate, too.

Sincerely, Kathy Ralston, Floyd McCain, Althea Gerdes, and Sally Powers

I Am A Mountain

by Althea M. Gerdes

I am a mountain. . .
Climbers climb me
Wanting to go higher.
Trees on me reach to the sky.
No one knows how deep are my roots,
What you see is so little of what I am.
I am billions of years old.
As old as the earth.
Formed of dirt and clay,
Pushed by wind, water, and the movement of the earth.
No one knows the pressure I feel
As I stand up tall into the sky.

Misunderstood

by Betty McCain

Mountain Poem

by Debbie Rockford

Mountain Voice

by Diane Bourgeois

I and Thou.

 I and Thou always.

I with rock and soil and pools
stretching out beneath You.
I with living things making their way
across and through me.
I yearning for You.

Thou.
Thou beyond yet through the heavens.
Thou, the true source.

I breathe the blue sky and am touched
by rain and cloud.
I see the stars and comets.
I hear the crickets in my ears
and babies’ cries and doves.

I see You seeing me.
I and Thou.

I, the Mountain

by Kathy Ralston

While the frozen, eternal snow chills my peak,
I throw a warm blanket of mossy tundra around my shoulders.
Wild flowers weave into the downy comforter.
Pine trees march down my flanks in their rows.
Mighty waters fall in rushing sprays
from my craggy clefts.

The eagle glides above the valley
and returns to the aerie on my high cliff.
Elk and deer graze in my forest and meadow.
In awe the people come, determined to conquer me.
I lift them up as they climb to my true summit.
Briefly they can see the sweeping vista
where I watch eternally: seeing, trusting, holding on.

I Am Mountain

by Sally Powers

Pines and aspens provide drapery
softness to boldness of rock.
Porcupine, marmot, and chipmunk
scratch my tender spots,
tickle my private places.

I dress myself with crowns of clouds,
feathery cloud boas,
thick, snowy blankets,
jewels that glisten like snow.
Pines, ever green, circle my neckline.

Mountain

by Trevor Ralston