Thoughts While Sitting On A Mountain Above Woodstock

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Mountains so high they turn blue along the horizon
Everything covered in an earthy layer of lichen
Detritus and fungal matrimony
Reshaping the heavy landing
Wearing away at the jagged crags
That space and time spent eons waiting to form
Working on one stone at a time
Relatively, in the blink of an eye
A whole range of mountains beginning to disappear
Like a whole clan of humble Buddhas
Transcending the otherwise normal egocentric dive.

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Thoughts While Sitting On A Mountain Above Woodstock

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