We have seen their mountainous solitude for eons
Still and unwavering
We could trace their faces
Their well rounded closed eyes
They were our dead protectors
We were sure they would never rise.

Last Friday
We heard one of them moved
Frightened as we were
Unsure of what it would mean
We thought our resolve would ground us.

Yet,
Would this be the end of us?
The giants have ruled us in their slumber
For generations they have remained still
Unencumbered by what we have thought to be progress
We’ve heard stories of their fierce magnitude
Their weight
As if holding the earth in their grasp
Will our resolve face their immensity
Will their consciousness expose our fragility.

…

Finally,
With guarded breathes
We have watched them awaken one by one
With their eyes fixed far beyond the stars
Reaching out to the great unknown with desperation and promise
With a heavy hand of beautiful stone, made of dust and destiny
As if calling or praising the mystery lying beyond our universe.

We all watched frightened
Unnerved
As the giants stirred from the depths of the ocean bed
To the peaks of the Kangchenjunga
The desert hills of the Kalahari
To the amazon.

Our mountains have risen.

Who are we now but observers of our assured descent.
We always thought it was going to be sun.
We always thought we were the center of the universe.
The glory in the chaos.