From the Mouth of the Mountains
I’m in a constant state of exhaustion
And all I can hear is this idyllic, yet still arcane, voice longing ever so deeply for a feeling I have no words for.
A euphonious voice from an earthly mouth speaks from a place beyond diverging roads.
It campaigns within me, recruiting first, my eyes
So I can no longer be duped by avarice
Then my mouth,
So I cannot define love or attest to its definition
And then my ears,
So I do not foment allegations against humans I have not tried to understand
Until it reaches my heart
To prove that blood is vain without its turbine.
Cell by cell, my body turns, accepting this curious voice
My disinterested brain submits, finally
But it’s not the last to adhere
It is up to my feet to recognize this august voice as righteous and follow it as it descants to rid my body of learned toxins.
A voice so eloquent and a voice so grand
Can be none but from the mouth of the mountains.
Photographer: Max Rive