The mountain and the sea

He stood on top of the mountain,

Proud, yet conscious of his feet;

On top of the world so tiny, but

Nevertheless, still out of reach.

He looked beyond the horizon,

Spread his two magnificent wings

Floated through the changing air

To reach the pebbles along the beach.

Thus, he set out; on his grand voyage

He set out now to conquer the sea;

He rode and fought the waves

On his one remaining conquest -

And he arrived; nowhere, in the middle

Or was it even the middle? He debated

And plunged into the depths of the sea

Met life, light and colours, forever unseen -

And he felt proud again, small again

As he looked for the first time at his fists 

Although he could grab life off the water

The water, itself was never meant to be his.

He floated back up on the surface, breathed in;

He saw the mountain standing tall, he felt ill;

He swam back calmly, to the sands of the beach

And formed a palace with utmost care 

Then he waited, for now he understood it all;

He watched the waves break apart his creation

And take some of the truth back into the sea;

He looked up, smiling, towards the mountain -

Dark clouds had now covered the peak.

As rain poured down over the flesh of the world,

He could finally see that it was all the same -

Past and the present, the mountain and the sea,

It was all the same, to be or not to be.

"What was the remainder then?" he thought,

And let his mind wander into the skies.

For aeons he would search, for vanity he would ask

And he would know the answer, again and again.

The broken palace, the formless existence

Would reveal itself in his dreams.

The remainder was what always remained,

Beyond the start, along the hymns.