You stand like a huge elephant,
a curtain on the big black hole.
Shamrock green, tinges of sunglow
here and there; you are the brahma
or the vishnu i worship,
the monocrat that would give us all
and forsaken, we submit.
The bushes now smell rain, like the grasses;
as you cover in darkening tones.
The skies sneak in, flood in thy
caravans of light, and air; windwhirl all around, overwhelm the vales.
You speak my past, from the time this world broke fever.
You end my walk, you fill me gay.
O Himalayas.
