Classic Poem

I climb alone above the timber line to burn with the setting sun. She is my paramour. Below in the valley the shadows lurk like a pack of wolves. The frozen lake is round like a zero. The smoke of a fire curves upwards into a question mark. The tall firtrees are sentinels guarding the virginity of the mountain. The setting sun disarms them kisses the snow-covered breast of the mountain. And I am jealous and the sun sets. And I leave my flock of stars and wander all night in quest of the lost sun. I am impatient desperate mad. I go swiftly in proud fury. In my haste in the darkness I knock against trees. My body is bruised against boulders. I am frozen by mountain torrents. At last there is a filament of gold. There is the color of the dawn. There is the rising sun burning with gold. She comes towards me as I stand naked on the highest mountain top. The flock of stars have vanished but the Sunstar rises. I feel my eyes filling with fire. I feel the taste of fire in my mouth. I can hear fire.