(A song I sang on a mountain once) I wrote this while hiking and it’s a river of thoughts. I have some idea how to fix it; there are too many concepts, I need to focus it and edit it and maybe I can make it into something actually good. But for now, here’s the river:
But the mountains did not make me quiet.
We are not Steadfast Silent
Do not Remain
(I was more Alive)
We are not mountains
But are we the eruption of a volcanoe?
fire burning, throwing stones, lava sizzling
But no, we as well need to charge
We are not oceans (because we like to go places)
But are we waves?
Crashing and pulsing and beating
No, hearts see hearts and lose rythm
Are we forests
(a million pieces growing and dying)
to get lost in?
I am not inhabited.
There are no animals here.
No spirits but us.
Everything that I have done has been done by me.
As I stepped on stone
My mind spoke;
Human – Nature
We flow differently through the rivers of time.
Like the flowers
– they gave to me every sunday in a church in Florida –
cut at the base, dying Slower
Our tears (and laughter) are the rivers
making patterns in the landscape Faster
And we are always the ocean
Waves rolling in Crashing over our lungs
The air reclaiming it – ocean – as his faster slower faster slower slower
As I walk and as I talk and as I run through the crevices of your soul
There are rivers in me
And fire in me
And mountains in me