Filling impermanence

Before morning  dogs would raise snouts to sleep, in dreams whenever we turn dark and philosophically conscious of a short tether.And we cant go very far, beyond the immediate.To the mountains is a stretching of song and god, from a sea that raged alternately in a wind of trees. September or October will be a snow mountain because we want to do something then to fill our vast spaces between now and a mountain.

A whistle from the night brings mountains nearer. A dog’s snout of cry to the wind, a stick tapping the earth for stories, between now and mountains fills our impermanence with vast windy stretches.We wouldn’t know where night ends, space begins.

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