As the rolling mountains dip, curve and fold,

their edges and outlines unknowable,

their presence a work of art.

No shape or frame ever the same,

we look a little like these mountains, you and I.


Our lives chiseled and unpolished,

we are established, but evolving still.

Beautiful, unpredictable, worthy of a little wonder.


I hope we’ll grow up to be as resilient as these hills,

telling tales of storms weathered,

and whispering of fortitude built.


Growing with grace,

beauty defined by each cutting edge.

A credit to the hands of the crafter.


So, as we marvel at the mountains, you and I, do you think they marvel at us too?

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