I’m sitting here, looking out at the mountains in sheer wonder.
The mist of early morning dawn still hugs close to the mountain edges, like a child clinging to their parent on the first day of school. It is not yet warm enough for the bugs and the insects to begin their daily disjointed dance of flight and creeping over rock, dirt, and blades of grass. The birds- of a sort that I recognize, but do not know- swoop in and out of focus. Delighting in the sheer ability of flight. Rejoicing in the untamed sanctitude of the mountaintop.
I’m here looking on in wonder.
The mountain has no clue that the world is losing its mind.
Patient. Silent. Strong.
Oblivious to the fact that in neighboring countries, his mountainous cousin is being used as refuge… by assailants. That hundreds of miles below in a multi-thousand mile spread, life wars on other life. What a concept. It is not death which solely seeks to destroy life. No, death has learned her lesson for method of attack. In order to avoid divine backlash she invokes cheap witchcraft, dashing madness over any too afraid to live life.
She manipulated a moment of delusion into a permanent loss of birthright.
We fell for it, always wanting to satisfy lust before taking a moment to think light.
I am sad, but still hopeful. Like the mountain standing as silent sentry over things it cannot control and may not fully understand. Carefully guarding, with its diligence, the evidence… that there must be more than this provincial life… letting the ringing bell take precedence, brashly confident, don’t mess with this. The mountain understands commitment over preference.
Death. She sings her decadent song over spirituality… skillfully weaves her magic of deception into perception of identity. Making gods and monsters out of what used to be a justice league, justifying just about everything with a simple question… “What if this is wrong?”
Tragic humour. Through “what if this is wrong,” many meaningful movements are born… but so few ever stop to answer the question. Solving a problem because it’s inherently wrong requires certain steps… solving a problem because it’s massively wrongly handled by the masses is a different trek. But the spell is set. You’re trying to fix people in the name of being socially adept. So many lost causes, starkly processing the command for false positives- roger, roger- that even the bad guys slow down to watch the heroes deny being civil in the falling darkness.
But even the moon doesn’t shiver when the clouds conspire against the sun’s beaming rays. It stands tall knowing that despite the gloom, the daily tribute, to every truth is day. Day is reality… and the sun always shines… whether we see it or not.
I am not afraid.
Go ahead… choose your movement. Even if you don’t answer the question, only a ship that’s sailing, can be course corrected. A compass can’t encompass its capability and function without progressive, constant contact with the concrete. Just don’t be too arrogant to change direction if the arrow doesn’t match the trajectory of your feet.
Maybe the mountain is better off way up here…
Able to maintain its sense of wonder… stand in actual strength in its true identity…
And then again, maybe that’s the secret the rustic winds have been whispering and whistling to me…
Only the wonder of God can bear the weight of humanity.