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If I look
Or if I dont look
Clouds are always passing over
The place I live.
The place I live
Passing under
My feet while my mind wanders
In a sea of fog.
On a ridge
Seeing through a hole in the fog
A thought out of nowhere comes passing through
I say to myself
I say to myself, like a voice on the wind
Behold
But I see nothing.
Rocks and water and wood
Not speaking to me.
wanderer above the sea of fog
I mean the place lives
And clouds pass over
sitting on a ridge and watching clouds pass over
The landscape
A blanket on stone
where an ocean of glaciers rolled
Land waves are rolling.
Through a fog, this is a brief life.
Short and cold, momentarily.
A life as brief as the morning fog
Momentarily,
I come out from under.
Credits
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