Friday, July 06, 2007

My Mountain

I ran to ask my mountain questions
Those borne from foothills of a soul

And borrowed air as makeshift transit

The stolen time from oxygen
Inhaled and set as veins in marble

Unlike each whispered, echoed word

It sat, unmoved, unfurrowed counsel
While only lost penumbra stirred

A heartbeat peppered fractured quiet
There's nothing blowing in the wind
Then senses pricked by cacti needles

All cursed their lucky solitude
The dumbest nurture untold knowledge

Mobility is just cement

The torture of my mountain's fortune

Solutions aren't by accident

The answer isn't on a matchbox

It can't be found among parched clouds

Or hidden betwixt the leaves of trees

Nor snaking dust around the scrub

My mountain sage stood fast in silence

And truth no nodding head betrayed

The foetus of my wisdom crowning

With innocence once more decayed