One Single Impression: Seeds

Can the mountains know that they are like us? 
That, grand as they are, they will grow
Smaller and smaller and smaller still
Until they are soft hills--

Corners gone, rough edges gone,
Steep and dangerous passes gone
Heights that shape the weather
Gone....

That the grandeur will give way to
Soft spaces, green and cool,
Secret streams, murmuring pools,
Wordless life....

Can we know that we are like the mountains,
That we might grow small enough
To see the mystery unfold before us
And to feel it within us,
Invisible, infinite, earthy, and true--

That we will crumble into life?

One Single Impression