mountains grow in cycles that defy comprehension
making great redwoods seem as infants
ever so slowly they reach for less oxygen
their movements unperceived
tattered prayer flags blow in the waste
the proud remains of a sherpa’s soul
we watch from safe distances
as bone and breath rattle in the freezing dust
down below such trivial pursuits
our lives remain much the same
for mountains stay
but we are lost to the firmament
hours and minutes define our days
tribes forage and wander
kingdoms devour and conquer
children grow and dream
the separation of space
expands and retracts in heart-like rhythms
these are the days of ponder
a wind-swept ocean of wonder surrounds
theatres foster great imitations
actors bring tears from jolted eyes
the artist and the camera man shoot stills
capturing the collective consciousness
and i wonder…
what it would be
to feel the slow birth of the weighty mountain
rising through time immemorial
recording love and loss
with sand and stone
9 Feb
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