Oct 15, 2020

I have wanted to be clean for so long now.

See me bathe.

High above this long, green valley,

High above the river.

The air is cool, and I am clean.

I have wanted to be clean for so long now.

My body is below,

Lying still and dirty on the ground.

I can hear my wife crying,

But I am rising

Up past the clouds now.

Look up, I am bathing in clouds.


Clean at long last. 


You are naked, wounded, covered with dirt,

And you are pulling a fire behind yourself

As you stagger across the troubled face

Of this world, dragging it with a long rope.

These are the days of hunger and exhaustion.

Now the sky has opened its mouth and roared

Like a lion, like an old man.

Now the river is a sin of tears.

You own your soul, and nothing else.

One step follows another,

And the fire burns on.

The earth again turns away from the sun,

And darkness slams shut the door

Of light and being.

You walk alone through the shallow night.

Will morning come? Yes, of course.

But when?  


A poem, On the Mountain, BY JOHN HAINES

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