Mountains

I stand looking at the white giant. I want to feel something; awaiting an ecstacy within the  true understanding of how small I am—that the world is bigger than me—a sense of divine humility. I crave it. I want Presence, something more real than my reality – Truth – as I gaze at the mountain: big, bold, beautiful. pure.

But I get nothing. I am before the mountain unmoved, unchanged. I want to be a part of it, to sink into the snow, become the rock face, reflect the bare sun off my white surface. I wanted to strike awe in the face of my audience. Yet this desire perverts the moment. I have missed my time, my moment to become what is before me. The mountain is there, but it is as if it is not there at all.

words by noah

Photos by Irene zhou

a special thanks to xy restaurant