mountain man

i share a mountain with a man

and i don’t know his name.

nobody - just me, him, and 

two rocks that look the same.

some time ago, we both began

to attempt a singular aim:

to get our rock to stand

at the top of the hill today.

and then the work became a job

and the task was just in vain.

because the rock would reach the top,

and then down it always came.

the realization made me stop

and it filled me with distain.

“why push the rock i’m bound to drop

when inevitability remains?”

and with nothing else to do, i’m bored.

the man besides me pushes on.

perched on my rock i look toward

the strange phenomenon.

my thoughts, previously unexplored,

are strange to come upon.

i wander where they would not before-

if i’d rather be dead and gone.

and he rolls it up the mountain,

digs his heels into the dirt.

another rock that comes down tumblin’.

doesn’t think of how it hurts.

he’ll pick up the rock and start in

on another brand new day.

dig his heels into the dirt and say

“maybe that’s the one that stays”.

and i really wish him luck and all,

but i tell him from my view,

that the rock will surely fall,

and there’s nothing that can help you.

perched on my rock i can’t recall, 

but there’s nothing more to do.

at least i don’t spend hours hauling

the rock like i used to.

and “this is the one that stays”

he says, and i’ve heard that one before.

and by night he’s been betrayed

again, by the fall he’d been forewarned.

but i’m bored, so then i say

again, “how do you not feel despair?”

and he asks me how he should spend his days

when there’s nothing else there?

and “one day the rock will kill you

on its fateful, final fall.

but maybe you’ll take pride you knew

you did something at all”.

i told him i don’t share his view,

and i knew it to be false,

but i’m bored, so then i think it through

and i know i’ve heard a call.

and next morning, i stare up the hill,

hoping the call will be profound.

and i start pushing the rock that will

inevitably come down.

the man pushes besides me still.

he asks me why i’ve come around?

i say “i’ll never be fulfilled,

but it beats the view here from the ground”.

and we roll it up the mountain

though we know we will come short.

another rock that comes down tumblin’

and another life that ends in hurt.

but we’ll pick up the rock and start in

on what is a brand new day.

dig our heels into the Earth and say,

“maybe that’s the one that stays”