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The mountain lord ascends the slopes, agile as a ram
Fearful as a landslide, springing from the ground
Leaping from the hillside, to peaks, to lower roads
To snowed-in homes
To the hollow of my throat, where the sound resounds
Where the echo resonates through flesh and air and stone
And tremors roam the highways of my being
The path has petered out now, with the sound of passing cars
And nothing mars the silence save the hissing of the wind
Winding up and over through the stillness of the cairns
With no care of my own
Or for myself
I am lost to his land