How to Leave the Mountains

Leaving is hard.
Harder than the granite cliffs,
harder than the pull of the mud in the swamps.
But the sky is not away;
they are still tethered to the broken mountains,
still tethered to the wails and the bays
of the things they knew they would be stuck behind.
The highest place in the stars only has the longest time to fall,
back down to the broken mountains,
To the mess that was left for us.

Never Follow the Light

A black sky with an opal sun, starts the world as it begun. Then light and radiance and heat and mind. Divinity was born as they opal died. Great clouds formed to block the light. Until they fell and burn as stars.

The garden of Eden lay wrapped in light. Every leaf was a mirror and every beast was smoke. Eat the fruit, the dark had said, and you will have truer sight. But mirrors made the fruit the light evoke.

Our mother went to the river to gather clay. And from that clay us she did sculpt. “Go into the sun. Harden into your final form” but those of us have never moved again.

Follow the rainbow road with pride. Follow it across the sky. I’ll meet you at the end if I don’t end up in the sun.