Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Echo of Stac Pollaidh

from the ragged summit of Stac Pollaidh
down to the point of invisibility 
I wish to lose myself here in this sacred place 
which has possessed me

oh, I climbed here huff-puffin a human being 
like all the rest making our way fast
past little bits of gum and cigarette ends
my heart pounding on the scramble

to find this, a place where wolves open the sky
shall you not open your eyes
there's nothing that can prepare you
for the everlasting ken

to breathe like this inhaling water from below
like a fish yet to be swimming among the low clouds
blessed as the stars, yes, of course
yet a Highlander's measure more in the knowing 

that She owns me 
in surrender to be nothing 
I suppose like death's howl takes you
awakening everyone but the dead, being you

or perhaps as the promise of The Way suggests
this crag I know without hearing its word
is beyond the reach of death for death cannot touch it
and maybe as promised ourselves doesn’t touch us at last

be it known we are here together as friends
as heaven is known when you see it
never wish to leave it for the heavy airs beneath
cry like a baby to leave Her arms

to waste away here at what’s been brought to us
having ascended wish the whole earth
to stay and to go on to nothing nothing

to be the echo
~ Girard Tournesol
http://www.thewatershedjournal.org/


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Art by Zach Baker

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