 Bierstadt Storm in the Mountains @ undergroundwebworld.com The scruffy ol' mountain man is not a character from an epic novel I've read. He is flesh and blood, and not from any mountain anywhere near these parts. I dubbed him this long ago, because he is about as moveable as one of those Herculean creations, and scaling him to attain the peak, (i.e. understanding of who he really is) has always been damn near impossible. Honestly, since childhood it seemed as if his formidable presence would remain majestically aloof but steady forever. Not even those tangible giants of this Earth are indefinite, however, even though they fade much slower than any human counterpart.
Today he said to me, "I am lost and don't know what to do about it. Never been in this situation before," and something inside me shattered into a thousand delicate crystal shards capable of cutting tender flesh, making it bleed. Helpless, I made a joke, "Well, if you want, I'll send you a compass. That way at least you'll always know where North is." It was lame, but it's all I had. I don't know how to help him except to say over and over, "You're not alone." That's not enough either, but is also all I've got, this sincere resolve that no member of my Tribe will ever have to stand alone as long as I'm alive. My insides rattle and shake with the power of emotions rocking me about like some helpless skiff in a hurricane. "Steady," I tell myself. Keep your feet planted firm and as the storm winds grow, hold on tight...because they ARE going to grow into this giant crescendo that slams and hammers away at every bit of rock and pebble against that mountain. Sooner or later (although we're down to the soon part now), the mountain will fall, scattering bits and pieces of dust and mystery across the land nearby. And when the noise has dissipated, all that will be left are silent sobs for what was lost. "Don't go, dad," my heart whispers, echoing off the ribs keeping it caged in place. Instead I lift my eyes towards the vibrant blue skies and pray, "It's okay. Take him when you're ready, when he's ready."
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About The Author
I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter. Archives
November 2018
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