The Little Cloud and the Mountain
by Steven Craig
In the early dawn light, the distant mountain stands tall and firm, covered with the sparkling dew of a departing night.
He waits for his little cloud to come and caress his solid stone and shaggy top
To cool him with her summer breezes, and cover him with her winter snows.
He stares out to the southern sea from which his little cloud will come.
And turning, sees the heartless desert where his little cloud will one day die.
And he sees her coming towards him, reaching arms and smiling face.
Born to him on a wind of change.
She runs against the mountain of stone, and the wind relents.
And she hovers there by the mountain top to his endless joy.
The mountain envies the little cloud, for she can blow freely away.
The mountain cannot for he must stay.... the price for strength.
The mountain hopes that the little cloud will find her way to him.
Find safety and love in the embrace of his cirques and spires.
The little cloud feels the mountains flanks against her.
And nourishes the mountain with the fall of her hair.
And the little cloud fears the mountain no more, and slowly but determined,
casts the wind away, settles in the warm caldera that is the mountains heart.
And the mountain built a place for her to stay amist.
Protected from the call of the desert, the wail of the sea.
And the little cloud and the mountain together grow old in the eyes of a loving God.
Until they are both washed away to the sea with age.
And the mountain whispered in the little clouds ear... so only she could hear...
If you fear the long night, I will hold thee safe in my arms till the bright sun rise
If you fear the age of winter, I will stay with thee through all the years, for there is no pain in loving thee
If you fear that the mountain may move and leave you there alone, fear not what no power save God could ever command the mountain to leave you.
If you fear dying young my little cloud, fear not...
I would love thee, if only a minutes time I had thee to cherish in my arms.
Author's Note: This is a story, indeed true, of how the mountain sees his long life as the little cloud briefly passes by
There is a second story, the Little Cloud and the Mountain, the same story told from the other perspective.
They are a narrative on the price of, for the one, being free but never knowing a home, and for the other being firm and stoic alone.
Posted on 06/24/2006
Copyright © 2020 Steven Craig