The Peaks And I Poem by francisca simon

The snow-clad peaks and I,
No likeness can I find:
The peaks, so lovely and pure,
To my ills, there is no cure.

The strong and robust peaks,
But I am so feeble and meek.
They stand majestic and tall,
And I stumble and fall.

The snow, spotless and white,
But I have many blemishes to hide.
The snow, so soft and sweet,
And I cannot my eyes meet.

The placid peaks, with their raison d'etre to live,
But I have nothing to give.
The peaks, their heads held high,
And I can utter only a sigh.

The noble peaks, so near to the Lord,
But I am just a faraway fraud.
The peaks, so still yet so living,
And I am just a lifeless being.

The peaks have beauty and eternity,
But my life has no certainty.
The peaks, so mighty yet so modest,
I, so mightless yet the proudest.

The snow-clad peaks and I,
No likeness do I find.