These distant mountains speak

[Cassiopeia88]

(I really don't have a title for this. Titles are not my strength.)

These distant mountains speak
in tones too low for the living to hear.
Winter snow,
nestled on peaks
and crags,
is a single syllable --
a soft vowel sound.


I cannot hear the language  
of these mountains,
though I listen,
my bare feet
on stony soil,
my lips wet
with glacial waters.


I sometimes hear the echo
of those words
in the footfalls
of a cottontail rabbit,
in the hissing of a
rattlesnake hiding
in the tall, summer grass.  

I'm new at critiques, but I think this works very nicely as a unit. It has nice, mellow imagery and atmosphere. To me it conveys some sort of discrepancy between people and nature, where we speak too different languages and we can only catch a glimpse of some sort of timeless message that nature/mountains are trying to convey to us. So, we can just stand and listen. I like that it shows hints of personal style and message, so I would continue going in this direction.