I climbed the heavy miles of rock
hot through the forest up
to the gravel avenue through the krummholz,
the heat now descending to cooled tundra
paved with tiny wildflowers
yellow and white and berries
twisted among miniature ferns
under the bonsai spruce—
the path here a portal through the laws
of gravity to the next height opening
clear ahead like an oncoming
hypnosis of space or surrender of weight—
till finally into sky light above tree line I rose.
I rose and was on a green cloud flung wide
with more mountains spinning
in every distance—I was held aloft
hovering on the updraft between them
or I was the updraft, I was
awake and arisen
like the raven with its wings
spread far and floating fast in place
on that mountainous
rapture of air or I was the air
or the hand of air
had turned tangible
as I moved and breathed—
DURATION
Duration is a mountain
that unwraps
as I walk it,
origami globe
where earth and feet
meet at the folds.