Florø, Norway's
westernmost town, 2015.


All you could ever be,
Is *you.
All you ever held was yours
Within the holding.

I ask the snow covered island
Peak towering beyond the body
Of ocean. What is your
Mountain name?

It answers in its
Mother's tongue; silence:
*I am God to Pebble.
I am Child to Ranges.

Brother to Sea stroking my
Sides. Even dancing with Sister
Storm, his every wet touch is
Caress.

I am I.  
Rigid within my given space.
Learn from me if you will.
I care as little as stone.