Mount Houvenkopf
Serene he stands, with mist serenely crowned,
   And draws a cloak of trees about his breast.
   The thunder roars but cannot break his rest
And from his rugged face the tempests bound.
He does not heed the angry lightning’s wound,
   The raging blizzard is his harmless guest,
   And human life is but a passing jest
To him who sees Time spin the years around.
But fragile souls, in skyey reaches find
   High vantage-points and view him from afar.
How low he seems to the ascended mind,
   How brief he seems where all things endless are;
This little playmate of the mighty wind
   This young companion of an ancient star.

Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (
Created April 3, 2001; not revised.