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Poem

“Into busy cities with the flow of cars
 Is where we come back to – simply no choice! –
 And we’re coming down from the heights we reached,
 Leaving our hearts in the mountains.”
    ~ Vladimir Vysotsky, “Goodbye Mountains”

...

How ephemeral is life
How permanent
For ages before this body’s come
And further ages after it’s gone
The mountain’s contemplating
The life it’s carried
Throughout its existence
And will sustain
Until it’s gone
The creatures
Who make it
Home
I can stand
Huddling no more
I won’t do it anymore
In the next obscene tempest I’ll revel
Shove aside the quaking glass
Stagger wild-eyed into the thrashing sheets of the rejoicing maelstrom
Let it burst over me under me through me in pitch black rage
Let it spear me deeper and deeper till the tempest’s heart is one with mine
Let it scoop me twirling heels over head and back upright
My mildly wavy hair drawn straight out inundated
Pummeled matted flipped plastered twisted flattened
Again
Again
And again

...
   ~ Thanks Always Returns

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