Matt Mooney (1943 / South Galway, Ireland.)
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Wrapped up in the Irish tricolour,
Waving to us from Mount Everest.
The giant in your dream is calling
To conquer the Himalayan heights,
To climb to the unmelting snows.
Some men went and fell and froze
So close to their destined podium,
To be clasped by the cold oblivion.
Reaching up above and reaching in,
So many ways to give life meaning,
Climbing mountains or meditating.
In the end there's little out of reach,
And the moon is not so far no more;
The soul can leave this tent of ours
And arrive at where it wants to be,
To ascend where it's blinding white
In that world where eternity abides.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Nepal by Matt Mooney )
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