ghosts on the mountain
whisper death into the wind
i think i hear them coming now
carried up and over ancient trees
the quiet words of a forgotten tongue
shatter on the mountainside
crack inside our brittle ears
and fade away without a trace
the indifferent cold white sun
abandons us for a darker west
as shadows flee and fall between
the cracks inside the world around us
something changes
the air is still and dead
and for a moment, it almost seems that
we are too
but down down down and further down
deep within the valley
there will be life again
a soft warm green world to finally be
no longer machines of joints and flesh
to sleep, to wake, to sleep again
and smile once more in the infinite morning
but for now place your feet carefully
on these endless jagged diamonds
don’t forgot what you are, breathing thing
and what these lungless mountains are
and have been for all eternity
where will you be in five million years?
but a ghost on the mountain
sending whispers into the wind
i think i hear them coming now
Words by Denson Camp. Images by me, edited by Lauryn Cravens.
Trip report: coming soon