Altitude

The thinned air drifts through me.
Up on this mountain.
Where the pine trees and promises grow.
It’s such a long way down from here.
That great expanse below, the past and a world without you.
I hold a thought, like I hold you in my arms.
Carefully, and cautiously.
Smothered in love.
A little drop of wonder which coats my mind.
That thought of joy breaking out of a dream.
Solidifying into my snowy reality.
Up here on the mountain.
I follow your path, and watch you watch the world from here.
Counting the moments we have and your eyelashes when you sleep.
Holding down the universe for you.
Yet when the distant thunder rumbles, shaking what we have built.
I confess, my heart trembles.
The snow turns black, and in my dreams fear tumbles our love.
Crumbling, like a plane into a skyscraper.
Covering the land with dust and sadness.
But this thunder does not last.
Quickly it is banished to the darkest parts of sleep.
For now I wake and walk the mountain, inside this wakened dream.
Collecting all of you, like fallen leaves from the trees.
Keeping them in my pocket.
Up here, on our mountain which grows further from the sea.
Raising up to meet god and pierce into heaven.

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Extirpate>Amalgamate

Stand in the middle of the wreckage.
The galaxy of regrets wash at your feet.
All open fields.
The tidal pull within you, feasting on black waves of idealism.
You bring your dreams to god.
Such food for a hungry beast.
The wind washes away, the dirt and decay of mountainous failure.
And who really cared. Who really cried over forgotten chances?
The road just diverged.
You detoured to this place where you can feel the grass under your feet.
Grounded.
Predisposed to deletion, to erase what was the stain and the dirt.
Such grand destructions.
But now it lies, bleached into your eyes.
Hung up in the gallery of your life.
And we now admire, devouring the stories of your past.
All parts that assimilated to the messiah of the meadow.
Here. Now. Living, breathing.
Being.

Tears of the Gods

His heart, now the colour of his wife. Broke apart.
The urn smashed, scattering them both across the clouds.
As the volcanoes rumbled and the gods groaned.
Down they both came in the rains.
Licked up by the wood spirits and the humans below.
Pooling in the heart of the world, flecks of life;
and the cast down tears from Olympus.

Lap of the Gods

His brow, wet from the rain, cast skyward.
A heart yearning for explanation and soothing.
His climb monumental, each step a weight of a world.
The spirits plucked his heartstrings like a lyre.
Coursing a music in his soul.
The mountains surrounded him, closed in like monsters teeth.
A wife held close still.
Tiny grey fragments on his skin, parted only by an urn and disbelief.
Soldiering on, he watched Apollo bury the light for another day.
Darkening his journey and settling into his bones.
Light air and fables coiled around him as he reached the summit.
The fates had been wrong, he was to die on the ascent.
Strangled in the thin air and half-hearted inclination.
Here’s mud in their eyes he thought as he looked beyond the clouds.
A flickering light, and eye to mystery.
Shimmering into view like many untold stories spat from a fire.
The great mount, the seat of all and the divine rose into view.
His heart melted into honey as the sight expanded in his eyes.
Before it turned to stone, unable to stand the wonders before him;
knowing the climb had just been steps towards the sacred.
Tiptoes on the precipice at the edge of the world.

Accident of grand design

I ran from the moment, away from the all the pain.
Up into the hills.
Far from you now, though I see you from up here. Up into the rains and breath of the mountain.
I stand on the edge and look up. The black rain falls on my face.
I swallow the sky and spit out the stars.
Raining them down upon you.
I stay here far too long, I no longer know who you are.
Memories hang off me like vines in the amazon. The animals of self-loathing crawl in these branches.
Tears fall that weld me to the stone. Moss begins to grow over my flesh.
I could not keep the promise I made.
A funeral procession trundles up the path below.
Laying rest to a soul who knew nothing but how to leave.
Their final exit, left all with destruction behind as they now carry his bones skyward.
I watch and listen to their dirges. Only I am to blame.
God help him.
God help me as I learn to say goodbye.