A Mountain’s View

I hear you brother.

Through different lenses and innumerable leaves.

I know this pain of counting, sorting, and labeling.

Although time seems to block our communion, the tail sometimes does wag the dog.

Visible only through the keyhole, but the rest can be surmised.

I see the traveler from the mountain top, but what peaks might look larger?

The mind travels in one direction and the heart in another, but what of it; the wind cannot ride the leaf.

A step eastward is a step westward.

One day my dear friend, perhaps we will meet.






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