To The Mountain Poem by J.R. Holmes

Alone I stand on the edge of a cliff, gazing
The child-crafts, on their dark azure abode, bowing
To the ghastly, mighty Mountain trembling the sea.
He yields the whirling winds through my body to breathe
Life to me, revitalizing my young body.

I sail, snail-like, to go stand on His wrinkled skin
And absorb the thunderous Mountain exertin'
Command on me as I fumble on him crying,
"Why, why do you stand still as the world is crumbling
Just like your wrinkled skin, brushed by the cold waters? "