That the pain is just a fog
Cloaking the mountain
The wind, soon enough
Will blow the fog away
And there will be I, the mountain
The wind, soon enough
Will blow the fog away
And there will be I, the mountain
I remind myself
The fog sometimes reveals
A scale and depth
Often obscured by detail
Smoky.
The smell of a campfire.
But the nearest fire set a hundred thousand trees alight, a hundred or more kilometers away. I wonder, was that one lightning? A cigarette? A carelessly managed fire?
Of course
I often manage
To imagine something
Stranger still
I wonder which god
With violent rhythm
And upending verse
Turned this sea bed on edge
Towering
Above the land
Which for a thousand miles
Has known only sky
And a horizon
Beyond infinity
We enter here
By the millions
Entranced
Where the sun
And the clouds
And the smoke
Interplay
Where the river
And the rails
Run in parallel
Display
Well
Faith
And experience
There is
Always
A path