Mountain

I am that mountain deified, both worshiped and abhorred.

I receive blame for avalanche, for beauty I’m adored.

You trod upon my figure then leave alters in my name,

You praise my vegetation then strip all ripe fruits away.

Erupted from the ground to make our world more green and lush,

Springing color and life from what was once ashes and dust,

In holding up the sky, I carry Earth upon my shoulders;

I’m formulating flowers to cover harsh, merciless boulders.

I hold my weight and sit among the gods, serenely posed -

‘Till finally, my surface must cave in and I explode!

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A note from the author: Don't carry too much on your back for the sake of pleasing the constantly evolving wishes of those around you, or you will explode. Being worshipped is not the same as having value.