MOUNTAIN MAN

The Man of the mountain listened
Waiting for the sound
The haunting clang of the gate
As it echoes all around

The Devil is in his kitchen
Watching every hand
Placed on that gate to open
The path to the Promised Land.

Tryfn he towers over
Guarding all from fear
As the glistening lake she trembles
The mountains shed their tears

This land is full of beauty
Still at its heart of glass
Fringed on sloping edges
By a coat of ochre grass

The gate announces entry
Or a departing soul
The man of the mountains listens
Not knowing the final toll

Nothing alters as years they pass
The mountain man returns.
The clang of the gate remains unchanged
To the Promised Land he yearns.

All he knows in contemplation
Is the splendour of this place
And he loves the haunting sound
Of that clanging gate.