On The Summit Of An Alpine Mountain Poem by Martin Ward

On the Summit of an Alpine Mountain
(Triptych)

Solitude

Not silence
as there were sounds

Heard

Unheard sounds

White out

Seas
cut grey
through razor rocks

Elemental

Hear it
on my face

Feel it
in my ears

Frozen fresh

In nature
and synaptic form

Raw

Present

Still


On the Summit of an Alpine Mountain
(Second version)

The solitude was exquisite.

It could not be called silence,
because there were sounds:
sounds that I had not heard before.

Between the white mountains,
with rugged grey razors of glacial rock;
seas of frozen snow and ice
draped the dominatrix forms.

If I could only write
the sounds.

Another world
filled my senses
and formed synaptic chains
forever held
until I press the play button.

I looked down
from another world
which appeared to have
no other life,
save nature
in its wildest, remotest form.


On the Summit of an Alpine Mountain
(Apotheosis)

Experiences
beyond
expectation,
give,
create,
renew,
reinvigorate.

Senses
juxtapose
and remain
in changed form
or memory.