The high mountains rise above the land, protecting the valley below. They enjoy status and power, for they are revered and thanked. The valley is low and dirty while the mountain high and clean. There is solitude and peace in the mountain; the valley is lively and exciting.

Yet the mountains are alone. They rise up high to become cold and devoid of life. They can do nothing but stand and watch while the valley below frolics in joy and play. The mountain assures them of this in its protection, yet they can never enjoy mortal pleasures.

The mountains go on and on, observed and revered through the ages. Old and weary and not able to die with ease, they can but observe the joy the valley takes in death.

Remember death; it brings joy to life.