I circle myself with the witness of the mountain,
with the stone that remembers what I have forgotten.

I place my fleeting life against its ancient patience,
my questions into its enduring silence.

I relinquish the illusion of being the centre,
standing instead before this elder of time.
I release the desire to conquer the summits,
And instead let myself simply be held.

I listen for the response in the weight within my chest,
in the stillness that presses against my urgency,
I feel the deep resonance that rises unbidden,
as if my bones recognise their origin.

Circle me, O Presence,
in this communion of dust and breath.
Teach me to be small enough to belong,
So the memory in the stone awakens the memory in me.