The mountains have long stood
and guarded the plains,
while a thousand summer evenings
have sighed and slept.
They have seen children created
and homesteads blown away
by western winds
that through the valleys have swept.
They judge not
but they keep their faces to the light
and in the evening
they tenderly cradle the stars.
Young cattle grow restless
in the heat of the night
and flushed couples tumble
out of crowded bars.
I wonder about the secrets of yours
that they hold
as you lay down amid the debris
of another day’s labour.
When you feel tired
and your vigour grows old,
turn to the mountains
for they are always in your favour.