Spirit to Fury

I ascend the deep divide

Of mountain passes above treelines

Of eternal space and time in

Glistening

Fields of rain and shy sunshine.

Trudging the trail between

Luminous greens,

In looming temples of paradise

Declared,

Breathing dense presence.

A fine rain brings out flowers

Of phosphorus colors

In a world alone in antiquity for a day.

An old man meets me on the trail

Making no demands as he goes

On his way,

As he moves further downstream,

I see a reflection of me, a touch of something

Greater

In an image shrinking quietly

Into a colossal

Landscape.

A cold wind cutting

Across an Alpine lake reflecting

Clouds caressing peaks

In the glow of joyous melancholy,

Thin streams

Of fog hovering within reach

Piercing a world of choice denied

Perception

Amidst nature's fiery cunning,

The inanimate becoming animate

Who is who?

I melt into the landscape of determined

Unknowing

Opening to nothingness where

Notes of grace endure.