[Written: 2024-09-16]

I am not the mountain towering towards the heavens;

I am not its reflection on the glass of the lake disappearing into another dimension.

Nor am I its root which maybe be as vast as the planet.

I am not the turmoil of dark storm clouds orbiting above;

Or the lightning striking anything it chooses;

And I cannot be the swirling hurricane or tornados circling around it.

I am the flaming beacon on its middle peak;

Sending my message from where I have travelled to in the blink of an observation.

I lay here warmed by my core;

And chilled by the freshness of mountain ice and air;

Both awake and asleep;

Waiting for you to speak;

And tell me what you see;

Or seek.