MOTET II, Part 1

the land
before us

at twelve, after years of dreaming
I finally faced a mountain
and climbed

at twenty-seven, my first breath
of jagged snowy crest
like those I’d drawn from kindergarten

a year later, trekking to a pinnacle over my first glacier
I encountered elk tracks, scats, and bones

I knew nothing of my strands of Swiss ancestry
these were the Himalayas to my Tibetan yearning

now admiring what’s not been wounded
or wrecked

what’s grown true or been healed
joyfully, thankfully

pray . mourn . sing love songs and lullabies



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