the mountain calls

The mountain calls them all.
From every direction
at every age they come.

The old ones come to sit and watch
the shadows grow long
to see the blue mist of the distant peaks,
the ones they will not climb again.

The young ones come
to announce their youth,
build a monument to their future:
the little camper on the way.

From north and south,
from east and west
from past to future and beyond
the mountain calls them all. 

Liz McFadzean