Only Me and the Mountain

By Ben Elick

I see the rough boulders, weathered, rugged, heavy and imposing.
I touch the quartz in my hand, aged dirt falling at the rub of my thumb.
I smell heat on the rocks, baked in the sun, far above the tree line.
I hear only me and the mountain, a sense of freedom, solitude.
I taste the dirt as it flings up in my face while digging.

I see the true sparkle of an uncut gem, the way nature made it.
I touch the cold dirt, a reminder that the prospecting season is ending.
I smell my pack, tattered and dusty, ready to see another prospecting adventure.
I hear my whisper to the mountain, asking for a safe and prosperous day.
I taste the fresh water from a mountain stream, clean and cold.

I see respect for the never-ending clash between the mountain and weather.
I touch gemstones, unearthed with hard work, sweat and willpower.
I smell the success and the failure of those before me, coated in hope and aspiration.
I hear my heart beat, accelerated by the thrill of experiencing the mountain.
I taste success through the power of dogged determination.

A mountain scene in Teller County, Colorado.
Snow and ice are on Ute Lake in the foreground.
Eroded granite lines the lake shore.
Pikes Peak is in the distance.
Photo © Ben Elick

Poet's bio: Ben Elick is a member of the Colorado Springs Mineralogical Society and participates in the Pikes Peak Pebble Pups and Earth Science Scholars. He has published several nonfiction articles in newspapers and magazines, including Ute Country News and Deposits magazine.  He has presented professional papers at the Geological Society of America and at the New Mexico Technical Institute of Mining and Technology in Socorro. He is currently a student in 9th grade and lives in Douglas County.