Once we saw the Mountain Lord
atop his rocky home
standing watch to behold
the forests, all alone.
So we climbed, in hopes to see
this elusive monster known to be
a protector and guardian true
of valleys deep and mountains blue.
And he waited, patient, like the stars,
and we climbed with ever more shaky arms,
and as we reached his mighty keep
he gave us a grin and then a mighty leap!
And from tip top of the rock and sky
he vanished into the treetops with a laughing cry,
so we sat where he’d stood,
too exhausted to move from this wood.
We breathed in the sky, and sighed out the mist,
listened to the melting snow as each creek it kissed.
By the time we climbed down, the sky had turned gold
the sun had begun its sinking, and these mountains old
gave a wave of their snow, a wind for a blanket unfold.
And we heard it again, as we got back to the car,
the softest of laughter, heard from so far,
the Mountain Lord again stood watch where we’d been,
a myth to remember, and with a leap, gone again.