"I thought that I could pick you up and roll you like a dice to be close to you."
As the mist rolls down the mountain, descending into grey night, you take your life in your hands. Here come the mountain crags that must be overcome on wheels, your body thrown about in the chassis.
Death will taste like rock and shards of metal.
All that separates you two are inches of sway. Another pebble and you are over, feet first. Your escape is greeted by a wall of light, for a moment thinking the afterlife has come- you simply missed the transition.
But that is not what it is.
It is simply a passage through a valley of high-beam mountains, a crevice in the road. Life comes and goes in an instant.
Had you ever felt inert, asleep, indifferent, ungrateful, you cannot now; Life is cheap but now you are wide awake.
There are fleeting glimpses of stars but the smell of the hillside is constant- fresh air, grass, and burning wood.
Above we pray and below we attempt communication and buy and are fed.
The invisible cows materialise in the curve, walking unguided past the spectacular drop.