What does it mean to be constituted by the wild,
To interrogate integral images of our horizon reflecting pieces of ourselves?
This question burrows beneath our sluggish quotidian, rising up like a
Desert mountain that fractures skylines.
A monstrous fixed point, reminding man of the world’s immensity, while
Hedging him into claustrophobic valleys—
mental wastelands traversed incarnate.
Blood dirt stains feet and Holy ground fashions blisters.
Deserts are suffering, but the mountain calls.
Perhaps a sage of antiquity awaits with answers from when God walked by.
Or the world opens itself when we crest the summit.
Turbulent ascent breaks down a brittle ego to absorb the land.
Immersed in barren landscapes to emit its silence, moored by the wind.
From the soul flows dazzling darkness distilled in eternity.
The encounter with the mythic other envelops, its hands digging deep
Form its own primordial rocky roots to mold for you a heart of stone.
Transformation from this experience beckons pause;
The self soaked in stillness, one must ascend the peak again.
links coming
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