Buddha at the Mountaintop
--

I climb
The mountain into space.
Seething,
Reeling,
Screams shredding clouds
To make way
For silent shouts
Of flight.
Not in someone's TV
Here in full color.

The sheer face of Olympus rises
Above.
Beaconing.
Calling.
Its mighty voice
Rippling across my skin,
Tickling me to climb again

Till once more
At last
When I reach the shore of the night,
In the soul of the height
Of the mountain.

Once more,
At last,
I fly
Again.
On Purpose
We Made Up Time to Confuse Ourselves
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