描述
By the side of a great mountain,
A Snow White majestic mountain goat clambered among the rocks,
He was known as the greatest of climbers,
He climbed to the highest peaks to eat fresh grass,
as the higher the impasse, the richer it tasted.
Though this winter frosted over all the surfaces up the rubble of the mountain.
A rose covered in frost wilted by the cold dawn,
And all the rocks in fact were covered in ice.
The goat slipped with every step,
He could not get up to the head,
Of a single slope,
Though he tried until his face glowed red.
It took him weeks to climb what used to take a day
Exhausted the goat rested halfway,
Napping on the hill all day.
Until he heard the clanking echo of a chisel,
Curious he ventured to its source.
A sculptor chipped away at a large masterpiece,
The sculptors creations were renowned across the land,
As pieces that formed around the twisting arms of beauty,
And their embrace which wrapped the human touch in light.
No man nor woman looked like they did beneath his gaze,
When he saw the goat, he put down his hammer,
The goat asked the sculptor;
“This is the coldest winter we’ve had,
My hooves can’t get a foot and the richest grass grows at the top,
I know sculptor you are used to carving with tools these masterpieces ,
Please give me advice to make it easier?"
The sculptor answered;
“It’s not the ice you need to solve but the rocks beneath,
Simply trying to change your slipping won’t get you far
The winter is cold because the roses in the mountain forest are frosted over.
Nothing grows without their colour,
It will be ice forever,
Unless they’re warmed at the centre."
“But how” the goat asked “how could I warm all those roses by myself?”
“You can’t” the sculptor answered “for the roses are the soul of the forest”
The sculptor takes out a dragon’s scale and present it as a promise;
“Persuade the dragon and she will melt them with a fiery kiss”
The goat ambled to the where sculptor pointed, slipping all the way.
The golden glow from her cave lighted the fading day ~ unfurling from the hunt of her latest prey.
The goat explained;
“The soul of the forest is frosted and rocks keep slipping,
We cannot go on this way.
If not for your first breathe to light the way”
The dragon spread out her majesty;
“You are in luck, such a scorching kiss is tradition in my dynasty”
She looked out upon the roses,
And breathed with calamity.
The fire off the petals swelled with immensity.
Once wilted, they now burn intensely.
The dragon wrapped in flames and perched pulsating,
All around the roses burned and color in the forest returned.
Ice on the rocks melted,
The petals made a furnace,
Glistening atop the rocks for the goat’s purpose,
All life returned.
The goat climbed mountain’s top to deliver his last verse,
All the forest shon now and the dragon lifted the curse.
"The grass is richer by the rocks at the mountain’s top”
The goat said.
"But the real beauty is the view."
Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller
@laurencefuller
www.laurencefuller.art/web3
