Great stooping sad old man
Root of wise ageing mother
Rib of corpus titan world
sourly viewing passage of time
While imperceptible insects beetle at your feet
Great brows perplexed with forest green
Fast asleep in ponderous thought
Patiently awaiting the end of time
Your voice filled with a slow sound of silence
Whistling sad melodious tunes on high winds
Rivers of sweat flows down stern unkempt face
Feeding winding valleys of green carpet
With body of weather beaten stone
On. On you silently slumbering sit
Till pregnant with time you become
Mere hill of former glories past
Awaken not to disturb firm luxuriant land
That gives new life poetic meaning
Let me abide a while upon your big toe
To wonder what resolves within snow capped head
Thoughts of soft joy or melancholy sadness
Your secretive slow remembrance is safe
Locked deep within hard cold stone
Heart beats soft slowly to to resolute rhythm
In time with ageing finite world
The place we both call home
For through the living all embracing land
You and I will be one
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