We cannot breathe the air
of dreams outstretched
concocted or received or
in gray matter etched.
The tops of the mountains are beautiful
dusted in cloud, the distance splendorous
the tops are sharp, the slopes are ample
they are both inviting and treacherous.
Our paltry prayers ascend
like hummingbirds to heaven
with pleases and amens
in dry ether suspended.
Traversing ridges below the apex of love
from camp to camp under avalanche danger
days unconscious, nights of trouble
elements oozing out and gathering.
Outfitted for an encounter with the alien
we come with preparation, with expenditure
our approach blind with overconfidence
every step is giddier and fancier.
What was the primeval
or historical gospel
that came out of the gorge
I speak to the ocean to perhaps cross
I utter wave after swell after current
my words rise like gull and albatross
part of me knows it is not in my power.
Pondering back and forth
the old and the young man
see each other pouring
water into the same well.