The nymph within
took the hand
of my divine self
and lifted me
high in the pines.

Straight toward the place
my heart does rest.
So high, she said,
so high and out too far.

Did you see them
I asked
and I took hold
of my divine image
and plowed the clouds.

I wait until
my name is written
in the songs of the birds
and carried
among the ravens

who hold me higher
than the eyes can see
and higher still till the mind
in pieces lay

at the foot of the Mount.

December,  2013