Above the Clouds

Above the land are the clouds, and above them is our imagination. It’s a landscape of possibilities we can’t reach but perceive beyond our senses.

I focus on the reflections on the surface of the water, and the dark patches shed over the mountaintops. The calm river sound defies its course and lifts itself upstream, mid-air, up the mountain spine. It elevates its energy with the wind.

Here the voices in the wind gather in a choir, they sing to my ears in their own language. I try to understand it, translate it as if it were a song. But the words spin and clash. The murmurs break into shouts and whispers, then cries.
It’s a vortex that eventually dissipates into vapor.
It leaves the mountains with no traces to be found.
It is suspended, omnipresent in the ether.
It’s biophilia.