There’s another way to look
At it. The air does not envelop
Mt. Everest. Mt. Everest
Includes the air. Its paths develop,
The paths of sky and earth. And
The stories and the visions, they’re
For far below, for every man
With a paperback on the thoroughfare.
The dreams receive from the neurons, its
The neurons whose lights flash across
Nodes, and then the wind whips
The snow up to scrape and emboss,
Up from the lower flanks of the mountain,
Where the peach and cerise laundry flaps.
Wind and mountain, mountain and wind,
Never-ceasing turmoil, thunderclaps,
Echoes and blessings, churning earth
And raging mudslides, all of them speak,
These are the elemental giants
Drinking from the icy creek.
Yaacov David Shulman