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Take me to kneel
At mountain monuments
Towers to the heavens
Casting their shadows
On the sinners below

Take me to rest
In forests pristine
Reliquaries for souls
Who wander dreaming
Through many bountiful arms

Take me to purify
In oceans tumultuous
Let me cleanse myself
In the deepest wells
Primeval founts of life

Owen Jun 6
Grandfather mountain,
watching us worry and die.
Spending six weeks on Mt. Fuji
Mark Wanless Jun 2
i saw a heaven
no i did not not really
the mountain is cold
Mark Wanless May 29
i dream of walking
on mountains   ha ha ha just
one hundred paces
Mark Wanless May 7
dolma walks the earth
touches loves honors people
she is a mountain
Mark Wanless May 7
the mountains are so
beautiful i do not see
the path before me
Mark Wanless May 7
understanding the
shape of a mountain not an
unknowable task
Internal battles meant to be discounted
And anxieties rumored as dismounted
While nothing could have amounted
To the tales within those mountains
Regarded and enabled as fountains
Of flowing wisdom which hasn’t counted
The melody of life yet to be sounded
A treasure seemed and well-rounded
Singular rhyming sequence based on my ruminating about worries and fears.
I am
the highway tunnels drilled in your gums
from when your baby teeth plucked themselves out.

I am
the **** rotting on the bed,
whose gelatin you flayed off with your rusted spoon.

I am
the accused with his bounty price
plastered across the billboard sign.

I am
the dying fetus
jutting her head outside the womb.

I am these tributaries — these waves that thirst — which, at first glance, don’t connect. In time, they will prove

that humanity has claimed territory in them.
I am the mouth, drooling forth my mountain water.

This larger lake! I shall never see beyond it.
I am not the fifth dimension, where the sky hangs its hook.

So what?
I have its might. I am the colonizer in its territory,
and I claim it.
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