This past summer my grandmother – Zoe Grotzke – passed from this world to her heavenly home. Here are some of my thoughts from the burial in Sheridan, MT. 

A mountain rises from the valley floor
Towering, soaring, stretching high
From another world it seems to stand
Strange among this flattened land

Its majestic peak sits above
Frozen, jagged, biting cold
And looming over all beneath
Flitting, spinning, blown about

Forced to reckon, those who pass,
Age, strength, presence sound
Demanding attention, respect, and awe
Immense, immovable mass of rock

The secret lies in stress and pressure

Twisting, smashing, splitting crust
Creaked, and groaned, jutting upward
While silt and soil slipped away
At the writhing hands of wind and age

Above the plain it sits and watches
Hoary head a testament
To age, and strength, midst stressful tests
painful clashing, crushing throws

All who pass, and see it there
Look, consider, bow their head
For in the presence of a giant they
Sit, live, pass their days.