The Sound Of Mountains Poem by Mark Sauer

Don't harken, but hear the sound of mountains.
Heed not, only float on the uncrushed cloud.
Reflect like a pool, don't peer through a lens;
Be still, be still, and know that I am God.
Resting on the seventh day, only thus
Could I know My works. Rest with Me, to know
Them too. Take ease from even idleness.
Drift in the current not marking the flow;
Tremble to the echo of creation,
Stretch with the fabric that ever recedes,
Not lost, nor found, without destination,
Wander goalless as the crooked path leads.
Emptied and blank, open, waiting and stilled,
Then are you finally, utterly filled.