A running account of Mountain Solitude product, updated occasionally.
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Entropy
[2/15/09, bemoaning the unfound hole in my thermarest]
Hole in the mat. Can't find it.
Air keeps seeping, obeying the
Laws of entropy -
Or whatever physics are allegedly at play -
Going by the rules, surreptitiously.
Can't really argue with them. Much.
But you don't have to like them.
Still, air seeking equilibrium seems natural.
But the more equal, the more it hurts
To remain behind.
Should I look? Find it? Stop physics and nature?
Or just live with a sore butt?
Mountain Solitude
[3/15/09, reflecting on creation around me]
Brush strokes
Angles of God's hand
Delicately balanced
One eco-layer upon another
Strokes applied gently
Yet such a gnarled beauty
Leaves me unbalanced
And wounded upon the sharp edges
Until stillness is the only comfort
Watching rocks be rocks
and such
Sounds of solace replacing those
of Industry and Progress -
and mixing there, God's breath
and the Valley sounds I try to escape -
I filter out the valley
open my eyes
to this harsh, beautiful barrage
of geometry engulfing
my sanctuary, my canvass.
The Creek
[4/19/09, at my favorite spot before it all dries up]
Trickle, glisten, flow and
Wash over all of me, cleanse
My soul. I need the sound of you.
I need the dizzying glance of you
From this rocky cliff.
The red lines on my arms, welts
From getting to you.
How you play with the ground and breeze
To make this wild place mine.
This symphonic breeze -- bringing
Pine healing and echoes of dampness --
Wraps me up in a cool blanket
Of sensations. I learn once more
How to hear, see, smell...all of it.
I need the Truth of you
So I can learn how to live again.
Orb
[5/17/09, on a bright day]
Circling this brightest orb --
Electric fingers reaching out --
first recoiling, slowly closing
Distance 'til I feel exquisite
Pain like angel tears upon me
Ever reaching, never touching,
Flows me fearless through the Light | 
