as you move
slowly
towards the shadow of the mountain
struggling in the open space
and reflecting the light
in the ryhytm of the sun

I see you
from high above
where you cannot see me

 
you yourself is a shadow on the snow
a question that needs to be asked
in times of change
in times of searching for new answers
beyond the conditions of modern daily life
and all these blurry statements of truth

I am afterlife
I am wings for the eye
I am the new world
arising from the yonder
I am the spirit of the wild
that protects and preserves
the very meaning of your soul
by breaking down your steps
in small pieces

my beak
feeds your mind
with the long forgotten dreams
taken back from the claws of society
and under my wings
the beast of mankind will survive
in another form, another shape
opened up
by closing down
and by conquests of the eye
and the openhearted
while it moves slowly
towards inner recognition
in the shadow of the mountain
and the ryhtm of the rising ancient sun

so turn your eyes skywards
and follow the beating of my wings
as all my jackdaw feathers
lift me up
towards higher ground

cause in the end
if you don’t find me
and loose the path again
this time your life
will be nothing more than bones in my nest
and I will feed others


as the wind increases
and the snow grows thicker in the fog
I can see from a distance
that you’re not

but you’re not
going to give up
as if you all were marching stones
with frost-ridden faces
and the same, old fire within

four marching stones and a dog
longing for the moment
when the sun breaks through
in laughter and forgetting
that will make your day
a new one
shiny like a feather of love
reflecting itself
on your lips
and in some way
it’s like the other way
around

four marching stones and a dog
and nothing
yet everything
is about to happen

when the journey
is endless
and the search
is out of time


this mountain
this harsh environment
is not meant for you
yet it is

it’s a place for the eye
and the heart
for dreams and desires
to come out
and follow the tracks
of the lifelines
in open air

it’s a powerful place
this one

the gravity
is made of stones
from the early days

and where the sky above
meets the snowy rocks
that rise from the clouds
in the sleepless abyss

there it is
a resting place for the searching eye
and the long forgotten dream
of coexistence
taken back from the claws of time
and replaced
in the timeless gap
between heaven and earth
where only I
the guardian of the mountain
can see it

and perhaps you
in a glimpse through the fog
after you’ve seen me


we are afterlife
we are wings for the eye
we are the new world
arising from the yonder
we are the spirit of the wild
that protects and preserves
the very meaning of your soul
by breaking down your steps
in small pieces



Poetry by Øyvind Egeland