I wait on the mountaintop,
hearing the symphony of wind
in leafless trees, lifting my hair,
rising from unseen streams,
canyons of air, the sound
like ocean surf, rising,
falling, rising again,
a few white clouds
sailing the sky’s blue sea.
Two eagles rise over me,
wheeling infinity symbols
around each other.
I wait as the gentle,
unburning, low sun
goldens the weary grass,
the scattered fallen leaves.
I wait, but hear only the empty wind,
growing louder, echoing
the emptiness inside me,
rising to meet
the nothing I was seeking.
First published by The Amethyst Review
