Poem on blue-grey crystal background.
"Interrogating the Montaine Psyche"
Poets often speak to me.
thrilled when my valleys echo back,
then verisfying about gods
surveying the world from high,
apparently attempting
to think like mountains.
No poet has before directly inquired
just how I view the world.
I am not spirit or god, but geology.
My rocky veins transmit sunlight patterns
by warming rock expanding hard
against colder shale, causing faint tremors
for softer rocks to record.
I feel the world’s rhythms this way,
by rock rubbing rock.
Echognomics, January 17 2026
The strongest gales are affectionate
in caressing my peaks
Their roars inform me I exist.
Water also conveys information
enriching my senses,
for entire ecosystems
balance on my rocks and streams.
.
My south slope warms in sun
while my northwestern slope sleeps in snow.
I know both as equally good.
When the seasons turn,
I know their meaning by the feel
of snow, ice and rain
and life’s bustle upon me
EchoGnomics January 17, 2026. Page 2 of 3
Long before humanity
my interior recorded the skies.
I know solar flares, the stars,
the moon pulling the tides’ pound,
and the dappled hum from everywhere.
Your astronomers climb me to
to get better looks. I understand.
I am small before the cosmos, too.
The sky teaches me proportion.
And so I exist, aware I am
in harmony with myself and the world.
Is that not happiness defined?
EchoGnomics January 17, 2026
In response to #MPPrompt request to write from the How-POV of a mountain or stone.
Poet looks at mounts
and asks how their peaks work
Geology explains.
#Emoetry #affectionate, #VssMagic #pound #VSS365 #dapple and haikufeels #look Also special thanks to Dr. Deepak Dev.