Old Man Of The Mountain

The Old Man of the Mountain fell to earth today
His cracked and lined weathered granite face, ten thousand years away.
Live free or die, they say, but what do they mean?
Was it winter’s long cold violent stand that brought him down to his knees?

Ten thousand years – a lifetime spent, squinting into the wind.
With eyes fixed east, he watched the sun rise, and praised this holy land.

Was Abel slain when Cain’s axe fell, or did he see the light?
Or does he stand behind broken glass, and stare with second sight?
Was it all too much, too hot to touch: the world caught on fire.
From the broad Cheyenne to the base at Bagram, the killing is so inspired.

Ten thousand years – a lifetime spent, squinting into the wind.
With eyes fixed east, he watched the sun rise, and praised this holy land.

With bombs and guns, we take aim and then run, leaving ashes in our wake
And in God’s name we seek to find blame, but can’t communicate.
But we’re all the same as the naked man shakes: one death -- too short a life.
And in the end, all that count are the friends that we make, and not our strife.

The Old Man of the Mountain fell to earth today.