Valleys

As we pass pristine valleys spotted with golden leaves and ringed by blue peaks touching a pillowed white sky, the scars of interstates, Kum & Go’s, sprawl, and hurry mar perfection. In my ears, Mahler’s 5 serves its funeral march for what once was – and what could still be. We are a temporary community of humanity marching uniformly on one track towards calm shared future through untouched lands framed by powers bigger than ourselves.

Mahler’s is a lamentation of the loss of humility, perhaps. For reverence. And for community.

When will come the resurrection?