free write #37/ Mountains

i climbed tecate mountain the day the eagle snatched by father's eye.
i wrote that once back when words flowed more freely. not the struggle they are now,
like crossing the great mountains.
i gathered rose quartz at the base of cuchima.

hard to relate to mountains, being so far away from them now.  there's a different kind
of mountain here...made of steel and glass; severe.

ain't no mountain high enough to keep me from you.

the catskill mountains as a little kid.  mostly i remember being afraid to ride the cable cars.

i would welcome mountains these days.  magic is buried in their beginnings.