By request for the Souls, from the Souls.
THE CSENDES EMBER
We were climbing up past Maroon Bells
It was getting to be a straight up climb.
Needing breath, we stopped talking…
Ran out of words
even more than running out of breath.
Something about being
in the Csendes emberof Nature
Makes small talk stupider than usual…
Csendes ember,
amongst my Magyar tribal people
means, Man of Silence,
the name for any mountain
anywhere, human or rock.
Running out of words…
Sometimes it’s all been said
anyway, hasn’t it?
And even the good parts
Have been said and said.
And there comes then,
mountain’s majesty…
Shhhhhh,
He is speaking now–
Didn’t you think the Majesty,
The Csendes ember,
man of so few words,
would have the biggest voice
Booming,
Thundering even?
And what is it instead?
Csendes ember’s voice
Up here in the steaming fog
near the top of the mountain
Where literally we stand
inside a cloud on this mountain?
Mountain Majesty’s voice
Is that of a little bird
That is somewhere flying and twittering,
whistling and making that sound
Like cicadas make…
somewhere between a buzz
And a cry.
Csendes ember’s voice is a tiny bird
above timberline,
And like Source without source,
We cannot see Who is singing
But we can hear Her…
once we run out of words
And just climb,
Just climb in silence made holy
By having finally
run out of words.
______________________
The Csendes Ember from La Pasionaria /The Bright Angel unpublished manuscript ©2014 by cp estés, all rights reserved.