It's Still Life

This is a reflection inspired by Friedrich Zettl’s post “Spring Greetings from Yunnan”

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Where Mantra Holds the Mountain
(inspired by Spring Greetings from Yunnan)

Someone was here.
They did not sign their name.

They lifted a stone,
warm from the palm,
and set it down
where prayer had already learned
the shape of weather.

These mountains never answer,
but always listen.

Yellow syllables lean
into cracked white plaster.
There is remembered breath here —
the jewel,
the lotus,
the sound that seals
heart to body.

Each stone says:
I was heavy once.
I am lighter now.

Hands come and go —
traders,
pilgrims,
the uncounted ordinary.

Each leaves a fraction of themselves,
balanced against wind.

Nothing here is finished.
Rain will loosen.
Time will blur the script.
Another hand will correct the silence
without knowing it.

And still the mountain keeps
what cannot be taken:
the pause,
the intention,
the mercy
pressed briefly
into matter.

If there is a spell here,
it is this:
compassion needs no voice,
only weight enough
to be set down gently —
and trusted
to remain.

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Inspired by Friedrich Zettl’s post “Spring Greetings from Yunnan”

Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI. Poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2026.