Being shaped
then re-shaped by the hill –
The weight of the earth
pulling at my legs.
Cutting through rock
Wild garlic smothering steep flanks–
Water knowing no bounds.
The stone arrangers had been here before
Raising heavenward sweat stained stone,
A double ring and bank –
What you saw still exists
Yet still, we come back too.
Always saturated in sound
Always interdependent
Hearing creates the world anew
Wind and space heard too.
Spirit running
As the mountain itself walks.
No outside becoming inside,
It never had to move.
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