Sunday, January 24, 2010
Eagles, clouds and mountain giants.
Movement stretches out of land and stone.
Urge is hammering from a wretched chamber
Left us bound to flesh and bone.
I'm on the borderline to the heavenly kingdom where all contexts are a stretched vastness, but where the hidden, at any time, can emerge out of the haze. My soul rests on wings, flying over houses and fields, where we live our lives, linking to each other like ripples in a coat of mail. A chainmail hidden until the day when we must prepare for battle, on the edge of our utmost and where everything can be lost.
All this, in this view, close to the sky, makes me want to bring up the mountain giants, resolve every ring from its links and call us all for departure to leave, to something other than a bounded waiting. I want to see how the mountains rise up out of the ground while shaking off the dust and soil, to see how we go out of our house with walking sticks and start to walk away on a pilgrimage. See us stride to remote countries where our hope and opportunities are not shackled in a reiterate song from the heart of our dungeons. Watch us walk in a steady pace alongside the marching landscape where each and every moment brings us new meaning.
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