Holy Mountain

With each step
Onto the holy mountain
I am slain.

By each fresh encounter
With a reality that overwhelms
My precious,
Worthless
Worldview, I am broken.

Broken, broken again
By the love
Of which the mountain is made.

Torn
Skin from skin
By the claws of the eagle
Who knows
It’s impossible
To step
Without carrying your whole world with you
Unless that step
Is a death
And a transformation.

Blessed Darkness

All is well.
It’s only normality that is dying.

The matrix is broken,
Its stories are bankrupt,
The ink of all contracts runs off the page.

Never mind.
The rivers will clear.
The land will recover.
And the stars that we fold inside our mountain songs
Will guide our way through the blessed darkness.