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The last week of October, I wrote a few things as a warm-up to NaNoWriMo. I thought I’d post these, even though they are spotty quality.

They lyrics I quote are from Peter Murphy’s “Cuts you up”.

I find you in the morning
After dreams of distant signs
You pour yourself over me
Like the sun through the blinds
You lift me up
And get me out
Keep me walking
But never shout
Hold the secret close
I hear you say

My windows opened east. When the sun rose in the morning, my curtains couldn’t keep out the light. As hard as I tried, it was impossible to stay in bed.

This was useful during that first year of college. The sun, even in winter, still rose early enough to wake me up in time for my first class. I would get out of bed, throw on some clothes and walk across campus.

It’s hard to explain what it’s like to fall in love while learning physics. I sat behind her, blinking and half asleep, wondering who she was and wondering how to talk to her. The rest of the class was making silly jokes using mathematical equations. I was sitting there, wondering why she would run out of class when it was done.

I never caught her to find out.

I met her. I talked with her. She still got out of class before me and I wound up sitting, confused, wondering what happened in class because I’d been caught in daydreams.

I started to sleep in.

On and on it goes
Calling like a distant wind
Through the zero hour we’ll walk
Cut the thick and break the thin
No sound to break no moment clear
When all the doubts are crystal clear
Crashing hard into the secret wind

Nothing does justice to a mountain. They are larger than words can describe. They have a majesty that defies the lens. They are something to be experienced, to be climbed, to be feared. They can’t be captured.

There’s one place, in particular, where the mountains crowd around a river. The river steamed in air so cold that icicles formed in my beard. I stood there, in the silence that the mountains dictated to me and the river alike, and listened.

I asked questions, I heard answers. Nothing was ever easy again, I discovered, when you ask the mountains. Mountains are large. Mountains are old. They understand what it takes to be mountains.

No mountain, myself, I hated what they told me. The river kept moving. The steam rose. The air froze. I cried.

You know the way
It twists and turns
Changing colour
Spinning yarns
You know the way
It leaves you dry
It cuts you up
It takes you high

Once again, the windows faced east.

Once again, I was in a room that was little more than a box.

I woke up each morning even though I didn’t want to wake up.

You know the way
It’s painted gold
Is it honey
Is it gold

I stood on top of a mesa in the desert in winter.

I always find mountains in winter.

Behind me, dogs barked for me. They wanted me back. The dog at my side looked up at me, wondering why we stopped at this point on the edge of the mesa. Wondered why we weren’t still running along the sandy, scrubby trail.

I looked down at my new friend. I asked.

“What now? What do we do? Do we keep running or do we go back?”

A tail wagged and the leash pulled me back to the barking. It was time to take another run around that sandy loop on top of a mesa.

I would ask the next dog that same question.

And then the next.

14 dogs.

Each time, a tail wagged and we went back.

When you desire
To conquer it
To feel you’re higher
To follow it
You must be clean
With mistakes
That you do mean
Move the heart
Switch the pace
Look for what
Seems out of place

Next to the steaming river, I ran with a line of dogs. They ran, paying little attention to the mountains. I ran, looking at how the mountains rose up, leaned in, whispered.

The dogs never glanced up. I looked up from the trail towards the mountains. I admired them for their strength. I wondered what they saw as the river moved and the wind howled.

I jumped off the runner and my boots crunched the snow.

I ran, pushing the sled.

I ran with the dogs.

I ran.

It’s o.k.
It goes this way
The line is thin
It twists away
Cuts you up
It throws about
Keep me walking
But never shout.