I.
Biped, your worshipful eyes don’t flatter me
your gestures that dissect my shape
You, anchored, could not comprehend
Drifting beyond control and desire
my body constantly reformed
a whim
of the wind
II.
Sometimes, the sun warms my back
moist updraft nourishes me
Sometimes, I bask in equilibrium
III.
You gape at my individuality
praise me with imaginary names
but cannot see how my incomplete
anatomy conforms to vast patterns
stratospheric topographies of only
white
IV.
I am no closer to the stars
V.
From altitude humanity is invisible
Only your patchy ravages remain
it is as if the landscape
is undoing itself.
VI.
Like an ancestor’s memory
the ocean vapor returns to me
cleansed.
VII.
I vanish, I reincarnate
I drip down a leaf
I blow up a mountain
I spend a blue eternity in ice
I always will be
free or not
there’s something
for your monks
whose bald heads I have caressed
in high temples