Soaring above the mountains
I rise above the clouds and see
The shadows they cast on brown soil
The land is now a map
Which I trace with my eyes
As I float above, looking down
Blue ocean breaks white as it touches this land
And beyond that lays cities,
Dusty squares cut by lines parallel and perpendicular
I see even further, to sharp ridges of snow-sprinkled mountains
Giants of rock and earth who have dwelled here forever
Before their eyes they have witnessed their world change
Once so desolate and vacant, now teeming with life and concrete
Not that life is a new concept to these ancient masses,
But this is a manufactured one, not the organic, flowing life of nature
But one of buildings and roads and emissions
Do these peaks choke on our existence?
Is there sentiment one of contempt?
Or do they look down, as I do, with wonder?