Meager Valley

I’m hollowed out and in.

Grasping onto strong winds, convincing myself I can remain stationary.
A meager Valley amid towering mountains whispered to me that it too knows what depression of the surface generates.
Presuming the mountains grew from inner strength, not knowing it was a grand collision of continental plates. 
The valley pleaded with me as she cried out, “‘comparison is the thief of joy,’ for I was created by running rivers and shifting glaciers. 
I too cracked when met with pressure.
Only the mountains grew upward and I found myself deeper in the molten metal core.
The alluring mountains did not diminish my survival. In fact, the more precipitous the mountains, the more rapid the water run through me.
I was a safe camp when faced with bitter winds and perilous storms.”
And in that moment I learned the valley is abundant. Although the grand mountains are stationary, growth and life originated in the depressed surface.

The valley and I grew once noting the mountain can be beautiful, too.