Wrote this about the power to change “physical” objects with the mind- also for Sarah, but erm, it doesn’t have any flow. The biggest mistake you can make in writing poems has to be listening to music while you write them. No matter what, it allways comes out a rewording to the song music and sounds terrible when you read it outloud with no notes in your mind.
The peaks of mountains mingle with ascending shards of air
They clash with sunlight like they’ve always fought
And beauty is among the flames, at just the place it’s always lain
It goes cascading round and out, passing on its numbing glare
To distant masses in other plots
on different planes
I’m sure they’re just as real to someone somewhere.
I looked across the gap between my vantage point and there.
I couldn’t put my finger on a single thing they shared-
It must have been for at the time I had my eyes ahead
And crippled lying all around me was brilliance left for dead.
At last today, I bent my knees, and turned my eyes behind.
And below me lay a little path I’d dreampt across the mountainline.
And then I mouthed a rusty sound
I took a seat there on the ground
And slept at rest to ever go but never leave
Forever as the mountain is - it will breath.
Until the mountain’s out of breath
We can hide from Windless Death
Atop the crest where endless bliss resides.
The holy place we’ll never find.