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My Soul Lifts Up Like A Mountain
My soul lifts up like a mountain
Over shadowed valleys and dales,
When I hear such tunes
That like foggy fumes
Conceal such sorrowful glories and tales.
As if touched by a precious finding
My heart leaps as music now spurs,
Flooding and rushing,
Pouring and drowning,
With the heat of a thousand warm furs.
My thoughts are alone in the shadows,
Alone the thoughts that were at rest,
Set out like brown sparrows,
Fast like broad arrows,
To think the thoughts that once fled:
Forgotten we are of all things past,
Of passion and love and treasured friends,
We are but empty clouds
That slowly pass
Over silent fields expectant of rain.
What is this our life if lived at a distance?
What is life without beauty or truth?
What this our poor existence
That with no resistance
Hurls itself under the horse’s wild hoofs?
We must seek in our lives the pleasure,
To cleanse our minds, spirits and souls,
To breathe with no measure
The sweet air of leisure
Of the dreams that once gave us hope.