The mist of the distant mountains
paints the scene across this expanse
crafted through eons of wind, rains,
floods and the constant movement
of the earth still wrestling with itself,
with slow shaping not caught by the
slither of human history that has
come and will go as this eternal skin
wrinkles and reforms across time
that cannot and will not be measured.

And here I stand, mere human, a man,
with time eating at my flesh and bones,
looking at this painted scene and knowing
this will be here, admired, after I am gone
to the moving, breathing ground and sky.

 

21/10/2026