Painting the Mountain
Today I paint
line and word approximate,
provisional. (First thoughts are
hesitant, of love -
and little understanding.)
Tomorrow I will climb the mountain
only then will I know how
to capture it in paint
or summon up the gist of it in words.
But after climbing it, what will I know?
and the heft of it beneath my feet.
I will have felt
the steepness of it in my labouring,
the softness of it at my chosen resting spots,
its silence deeper than my thoughts,
its lightness and the way it takes the weight of things,
the way its nature sides with us
against the pettiness of life,
a carnal flood to drown anxiety.
You may be sure it will be full of words
and frantic marks for me to lay on paper.
Composed of them -
and they of every tongue.
As now I think too much
the mountain stays remote from me.
The climb will plant it firmly in my senses.
The unsensed mark is just so much pollution.
Expect in future versions, words
employed more miserly and I
more tight-arsed making marks.
offers pension to ease debt -
the Greek Government's.
- so that's where it went! - see Haiku #67.