Part 4: Mountain-Touching Heavens
Rising mountain heights, presence of Taygreté,
Priestess or oracle, I, Tenzing, wisdom there
Received. Knowing dark eyes, she conveyed,
“Young girl, divine voices beckoned me,” she
Began. “Clouds, their colours I could read.”
As Taygreté related, she refused servitude to
Man, laboring in fields as livestock, ridiculed
By parents. “Let her leave,” her papa chided,
Taygreté discerning flights of birds. “She’ll
Return in two weeks, long decades passed.
Prayer beads in hand, single tear streaked
Taygreté’s face, uneasy smile wiped away,
By childhood memories betrayed, devotion
To ritual, beliefs, faith, life and soul trans-
Formed by mountain-touching heavens.
How can Taygreté reveal to me what I yearn
To know when I am so beneath her? My spirit
Still trail trotting with Bryjema, rambling
Streams, hers ascended beyond the beyond.
Thus, we are divided from gods as day, night.
“Know gentle love exists causing birds to
Pair,” Taygreté advised on my parting. By
Touch of eyes and hands, I understood,
Step-by-step descended to lower trails
I followed, idyllic heights and plains.
Thanks for reading.