Out there is a man who loves the mountains
In his eyes I see reflected the glinting grit of quartz
In his feet flames the heat of deeply sunken volcanoes
From his shoulder-blades flare out wings fashioned out of the mountain winds
In his hands he holds the healing mists of the valleys
Down his spine cascade the waterfalls of emerald green gorges
Through his veins ripple the spirits of the berg rivers
In his thighs shake the magnificent thunderstorms
On his forehead trembles the fierce energy of the high peaks
In his heart beats the pulse of the earth
keeping him ever tuned-in to the wild nature of the mighty mountains
... and this man I love
he keeps reminding me of my love
for these wild and free places
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