Looking down on the village below,
Little square blocks with scatterings of coloured dust.
Dusty movements washed still with distance,
Sounds absorbed by space.
In a city I feel insignificant,
In the mountains I feel overwhelmed.
Even up here I am also still a speck of dust,
My Life not even a centimeter of movement of these climbing rocks.
A growth barely comprehensible.
Invisible.
The Stillness of the thinning air,
Carried by the ice kissed wind.
The lost echoes of my aching footsteps,
Leaving imprints for today,
Camouflaged by those to be trod tomorrow.
Colours of prayers fly around me,
Kissing my ears, warming my eyes and filling me with thoughts.
My climb is witnessed by a mountain bird,
She is gliding above me,
Leaving me staring at what can surely only be an eternal Sun?
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