Wednesday, 25 January 2017


by Marguerite Guzmán Bouvard

The mountain slope is dwarfed
 by the passage  of massive clouds,
 moving in different directions and
continually changing shapes; the smaller ones
that are transparent soar upwards like spume
from behind the dense, furling waves
that have taken over the sky. The Alps’ tallest
peaks seem miniature as if the wind
were telling us a story about dimensions;
the size of a speeding truck, an open
page in a book, a clump of soaring pines,
are like moments in time, and
that transcendence and mystery
are part of our lives. 

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