06-06-2011, 06:44 PM
[Note - written in the winter of 2009. Some minor edits since then. Awaiting honest serious critique.]
Today I climbed a mountain.
I put on my boots,
red, dead, leather boots, and
looked up at the hulking mass,
from beyond the ancient church,
writhing with flora,
living earth.
I scaled the cusp,
scrambling amongst the livestock,
falling several times
in mires of black mud.
Circling the summit,
spiralling skywards,
on hard rock and grass,
I looked down at the villages surrounding.
Like moats of mortar and brick,
the villages seemed frozen.
Enveloped with scorn, I turned my head away.
Reaching the climax
of this trembling mountain,
I stood proud on an ancient cairn.
Then, the wind spoke to me,
slapped me,
whipped me.
Face red with broken skin,
and hair snapping, icy strands.
As if esoteric royalty screamed at me,
the wind tossed me again.
What words are these?
What language?
I ran backwards,
south,
towards the hillocks and vales,
terrified of the ghosts of the mountain,
urging me, I thought, to descend.
And then, before me,
in a sunken lay,
a megalith,
pouting at the sky,
penetrating the earth
stopped me running.
Commanded my inertia,
demanded silence and respect.
Upon it, scrawled in some ancient hieroglyph,
"Tef Roihi", read like dark magic,
and I remain motionless.
Today I climbed a mountain.
I put on my boots,
red, dead, leather boots, and
looked up at the hulking mass,
from beyond the ancient church,
writhing with flora,
living earth.
I scaled the cusp,
scrambling amongst the livestock,
falling several times
in mires of black mud.
Circling the summit,
spiralling skywards,
on hard rock and grass,
I looked down at the villages surrounding.
Like moats of mortar and brick,
the villages seemed frozen.
Enveloped with scorn, I turned my head away.
Reaching the climax
of this trembling mountain,
I stood proud on an ancient cairn.
Then, the wind spoke to me,
slapped me,
whipped me.
Face red with broken skin,
and hair snapping, icy strands.
As if esoteric royalty screamed at me,
the wind tossed me again.
What words are these?
What language?
I ran backwards,
south,
towards the hillocks and vales,
terrified of the ghosts of the mountain,
urging me, I thought, to descend.
And then, before me,
in a sunken lay,
a megalith,
pouting at the sky,
penetrating the earth
stopped me running.
Commanded my inertia,
demanded silence and respect.
Upon it, scrawled in some ancient hieroglyph,
"Tef Roihi", read like dark magic,
and I remain motionless.