1. OF ICE AND TEARS
Within the landform evoking an armchair,
Where the accumulation of powdery layers
And frosted sheets exceed their ablation,
Névé in all its purity, softly embraced the ground.
Later, as the crystals were, slowly, densely compressed,
They turned into glacial ice, a solid firn, holding the air tight.
Then, it all poured from the arm chair’s heart,
Through vacancy or geological weakness.
Once sufficiently thick, under the effects of surface slope,
Gravity and pressure, the giant began to move.
As I bowed over the edge of the belvedere,
A tremendous pain took over me.
Lying ahead was a startling spectacle:
An unfamiliar descent to the Ice Cave
bearing four hundred and thirty metal steps
This new prosthesis
Re-modelling the experience,
Obstacle to instinctive interactions,
Hideous alteration, seemed to move me into
A tragic play.
One foot in front of the other,
Step after step,
Veracity, immediacy and emergency
Made me shiver more than any winds.
I was hearing the glacier crying.
The re-configured interaction
I was forced into made me realise,
physically and emotionally,
That nothing was more real
Than natural tragedies;
The Beautiful turned into the Sublime
Eminence ruling over the Alps,
Beautiful turned sublime,
Through your cristal tears,
Too many dark rocks appear.
Through your raucous waves
Too many voices vanish.
On the day of the ascension, a storm tore across the sky.
The slope, indifferent to human time,
Unfolded as a fatal tear emerging from frozen wastes and trenchant air.
Smothering fog and blinding wind charged forwards as I marched.
With peaks formed by outbursts and stones born from wrathful crumbles,
It seemed the glacier had build an armour out of extraordinary violence.
As the impenetrable movements of the ruling giant numbed the body in dizziness,
An intense vertigo engulfed the senses.
My idyll had awakened into an inferno, favouring chaos over bliss,
Sentencing to death any attempt to reason.
From the summit’s sharp edge,
The awe I was yearning for unfolded in an epic madness
fracturing time, rupturing souls, suspending dialogs
Stirring hearts with the immeasurable.
When the winds lulled into plain rawness,
I recognised how foolish it was to have hoped for a euphoric encounter.
The animosity the glacier unleashed that day
Was only out of protection from careless humanity.
Geology’s mightiest design had only responded in frightful agony.
Over time, the battles had morphed into war,
Changing creators into destructors.
Perhaps it is when the giant will dissolve into an ocean of tears
That the rest of us will wave out a handkerchief.
Perhaps it is when we will listen to its cries
That we could become part of its armour,
Fierce protectors of the mountains’ alleviating power.