A man is a mountain.
He is a bed for weary minds.
A ladder for souls to climb.
A haven for all the forsaken.
He is a pilgrimage.
A rite of passage.
A wayfinder to God.
Covered in snow,
Covered in grass,
He grows in mass,
Over time and lifetime.
A woman is an ocean.
She is the calm waters and the stormy seas,
A womb for all creation,
A mysterious place to swim inside,
She is home,
An initiator of growth,
A way-shower to God,
Covered in blood,
Wrapped in water,
She opens and deepens,
Over time and lifetime.
You push he stays,
You strike he lays,
You lash he forgives,
You curse he laughs,
You leave he remains,
You come he welcomes,
You belittle, he smiles.
You pull away she stays,
You hide she finds you,
You play small she calls you forward,
You leave she loves more,
You come she welcomes,
You patronize she smiles,
For what does a mountain have to prove?
He has no scale to measure,
No eyes to compare,
No ego to defend,
If you ask him what he is,
He will reply.
I am the rocks, the dirt, the air
and all the life in between.
For what does an ocean need to do to be loved?
She has nothing to earn,
No worthiness to aspire to,
No need to be chosen,
If you ask her what she is,
She will reply,
I am the water, the sand, the air
And all the life in between.
I am the first to greet the sun.
I kiss the moon goodnight,
Use the clouds as my clothes,
Wear the stars as adornment,
Sing through eagle’s cries,
And never,
Ever,
Do I hide my size.
I am the heartbeat of the earth.
My movement shape the land,
I create storms and beautiful sunsets,
All in the same day,
Flowing in the delight of my power,
And never,
Ever,
Do I hide my depth.
A mountain is a man.
An ocean is a woman.
Co-written w/: Christine Hassler
