Longing

To touch the wilted sky
bent and unrelenting
vast above the massive crest
like waves coming to wash the world clean



and here i sit in silence
tasting with a distant taste
hearing with deaf ears
the sprawling wilderness
that must be touched
smelled
seen
to be believed

there
in the ever turning silence of the wind and trees and snow and rain
where death waits around every corner
chomping at the bit
to make all things new

there in the stillness and the terrifying undertones
there is where my longing reaches
to pine and soil and fawn and falcon
calling to my secrecy
the dirt and blood on my hands

whispering
with unrelenting tenderness

"be free"