A Resting Place Poem by Goddo Faggotte

Mountains,
(unlike rivers) ,
are serenely quiet and thoughtful places.

Mountains can be known for
they know themselves,
are grounded, founded and content to be.

Rivers, always searching, carving, twisting, turning,
can never be sure, can never rest,
for then they dry and die.

Meditating mountains invite others to speak,
allowing for the echoes, voices and whispers
of yesterday, today and forever.

The rushing river is always bobbling
and bubbling, noisily nosily
inserting itself into the earth
leaving little space.

A mountain will hide you,
shield you, forgive you, but
rivers rush right on over you,
around you, under you, into you
to drown and forget you.

Mountains are the highest highs,
rivers, the lowest lows and
my last wish will be to be
buried in a mountain.