Slow to arouse, slumbering giants,
Shrouded in ice and history.
Lifespan so wide, we cannot
Perceive the distance.
Footsteps preceded our own,
But it is we who walk now,
Veiled in trees and fallen leaves,
Trembling earth beneath our tiny feet.
This is not waiting;
This is being:
As the earth rolls,
Mountains create their own lifetime.
Turning ever on and upward,
Pacing the breathing and
Our steps, grounded
On this gentle awakening.
As a whale rolls in water,
And eyes directly the sky above,
So the mountain turns face up within,
To measure our progress upon her paths.