... in clock-time we measure the mountains

and they puncture the ether with their pride,
knowing as we ponder, the answer
will never be ours.

... another nature's eye-blink and geology

melds mankind into fodder of memory and mortar,
sifting ten thousand years into parsecs
of but moments--we call lives.

... we, fuel for fulfilment of purpose,

stand de-nuded of promise, doubt rules
with a phenomenological hand, for what
can't be touched isn't real.

... the mountains know, ironicly they chuckle.

07/19/2005