Kayla Santanilla
I wonder what the mountain knows,
After years of being one with the wind.
What stories were whispered
By the flutter of a butterfly’s wing?
Several lifetimes
Of secrets,
Brought in by the call of a crow.
I wonder what the mountain is hiding deep within its caves.
Does the mountain know the story of the sun?
Does it hear the truth of the moon?
I wonder if
The ever-present mountain feels
The change of the tide
Vibrating through the earth.
I wonder what the mountain knows,
What has been communicated through
The shining of a star.
I wonder if
The mountain knows
The wrongs of countries far away,
The wars and hate,
Smoke and fire
Shooting across the sky.
I wonder if the
The mountain hears
The night change into day.
But what I wonder most of all,
All the secrets the mountain knows,
I wonder if the the mountain really wants
To have the responsibility of this world.
Encumbering this mountain of graceful strength
Weighing it down,
Nobody to share the burden
Nobody as tolerant as the majestic cliffs.
Yet the mountain still might be
tired of holding on
To the flood of knowledge
Pushing against
It’s weakening boundaries.