talking to a mountain
\nher breath the wind
\nher hair the pines
\nlaying down across her back
\nand shoulders “where lost
\nsouls roam upon you
\nsleepless nights and campfires do you
\never grow tired of us?”<\/p>\n
(with the sun peeking over her)
\n“i love the taste of the morning
\nmy imperfect body covered with snow
\ni touch your visions and guide you
\n(a tear dangles beneath her eye)
\nI knew your grandfathers parents
\nand their parents
\nhave seen fire and ice
\nlife and
\ndeath
\nmy arms are always open
\nmy trails forever evident.”<\/p>\n
reaching majestically into a star filled sky
\nexhaling into a black silk smoothness
\nthe crickets now singing
\nagainst the nights heavy curtain
\nNow
\nthe mountain sleeps.
\ncradling her fragile love for
\nher mother,
\nthe earth.<\/p>\n
neonduskmondayjune719991037pm<\/p>\n
As I walked through the wilderness of this world,
\nI lighted on a certain place where was a Den,
\nand I laid me down in that place to sleep;
\nand as I slept, I dreamed a Dream.
\n~The Pilgrim’s Progress, by John Bunyan, 1675~<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
talking to a mountain her breath the wind her hair the pines laying down across her back and shoulders “where lost souls roam upon you sleepless nights and campfires do you ever grow tired of us?” (with the sun peeking … Continue reading