The mountain stood tall
Alone it climbed proudly
O’er the valley’s fog
The snow of its summit
The same white as the clouds
Which passed beneath
Reflecting sunbeams
Like a lighthouse beacon
Then came the wind
A stone blew off
Just a pebble, but then
Another fell
Tumbling down
Down, down the stones fell
The bitter wind taking small bites
Year by year, decade by decade
Then the snow
Crashing down
From such heights down
Down to the base
Piercing through the mists
Of the valley, all buried by
The smothering coldThe old oak stood tall
In the valley
Alone it climbed proudly
Piercing the fog
Branches grasping towards
The life-giving sky
The sun and moon
In endless chase
In endless dance
Broken only by the rains
Greedily its roots drank
And many rings it gained
Then came the avalanche
And greedily its roots drank
When the frozen deluge ceased
Saturated the rot began
It started small
But quickly spread
One by one the rings decayed
But the bark was thick
And the tree stood tall
As the rot set in
It was a cold wind like that
Which ate the mountain
And sent the snow crashing down
And so the oak came crashing down
A hollow husk
It made no sound
The image popped into my head and I jotted this down over lunch today. Lunch is some fig newtons and a bag of mini pretzels. I’ve been busy with work, hence my lack of an update with respect to my weekend (especially the rave Friday night, or Saturday’s Incunabuli session) and this current week (especially the haircut and my new TV). Hopefully I can get something substantial up tomorrow; not sure if I have off.
Sierpinski Tetrahedron 