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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