Mountains Mirror Mountains
       

In this land vines slip and weave into vines,
a slow construction for the hand
behind the pillar
of the self. The desert's sand
crawled in droves toward the sea
so the mountains could dare rise.
So thirsty was our god.
Now, each plant a minion of the sun,
a signature. The river a lonely pour
through the forest, an opportunity
for plants to baptize sickness
and let hope glisten on their leaves.

Mountains Mirror Mountains
       

Behind the pillar of the self,
mountains respond by changing
color with the season.
I am writing to you because
I want us to imagine mountains
in all forms of imagining: ascent, rock,
summit, and habitat. You see,
we are minions of the sun.
We want to recreate
ourselves eternally, in any form,
to give some part of us
a name, and let it go.

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Copyright © 2015 Jaime Brunton & Russell Evatt All rights reserved
from The Future Is a Faint Song
Dream Horse Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission