Cold Mountain

Open handed I tried to live among all people, ideas aloft.

Open handed I read the books, I learned the histories, I sang the songs.

Until mountains bellowed that my friends are flawed,

And not to forget sorrow and all the other Gods,

And that my mouth was dirty and my ears were clogged,

And of course that I'm flawed also...

And then it stopped.

Open handedness had me in it's grasp,

Running around frantically,

Trying to show off my "open hands"

"Hope, Unhand me!"

I finally yelped:

"Let me dwell on bad news,

Let me wallow in it"

So came long nights and hunkering down.

And there stood Cold Mountain with its trickling sound.

When I reached the summit, I made no camp

But I unrolled my sleeping bag in the stream

And let the cold water pour in my ears.