I saw I could no longer see.
My eyes sank deep like heavy hearts,
and through the fog I saw a mount,
whose peak had veiled itself in clouds.
I thought I could no longer hear,
but soon I knew of noteless sounds
that lay like faults in snowy banks --
I would not dare disturb their peace.
One by one, the strings detached,
I swore I could no longer feel.
I touched my hair but it was trees,
I touched my face but grabbed a cliff.
How wrong it is for cliffs to move,
how vile it is of them to think.
I rest my hands, I close my eyes,
a thousand suns then fall and rise.
Another dawn begins to crack.
Another cloud rests on my peak.
I care for none and none I seek,
Yet by my feet I see a track.
She climbs the cliffs, I feel her hands,
her footprints scar eternal snow.
Her voice rings through these solemn lands,
upsets the snow-faults high and low.
I saw, I knew, I know, I see
that if she reached the top of me
there would be sound, there would be light,
the mount would part like eyelids might.
O Sweet Lady, come to me!
Let me hear and let me see.
I am flesh and I am bone,
you alone know I'm not stone.