The Mountains Called

 Tall and proud, reaching for the sky, 

Alone and unique, the Mountain stood, 

Lofting over the clouds. 

The River down in the valley, 

Fell in love with him.

But rainfed and non-perennial 

She could see him only from afar.

He was rugged, lifeless and cold. 

Ignorant of the river, 

So she turned bold. 

She found it hard 

To climb up his steep sides. 

But to reach him was her aim, 

The River tried again and again. 

So she turned herself into rain, 

Drop by drop, she reached his terrain 

Turning herself into snow 

For his majestic peaks.

She decided to entwine herself, 

Adding life to his greatness. 

So she turned into a stream 

And soaked him in her love. 

The trees grew thick, 

On the stone cold rocks, 

The Mountain had life, 

A gift from the River.

Grateful in turn, year after year 

He stopped the clouds 

From taking her away. 

And every time he stopped them, 

They rained her love on him, 

Turning her once again into glaciers 

That made him a source of life.

~ Suranya



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