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Nepalese Notebook: September 25th, 2014

September 25th, 2014Besi Sahar 760m.
You never expect it, but the high mountains soon give way to the low, and the day comes when it is cloudy and humid and easy to forget what is near.  Everything simply disappears without importance, and even if we believe in it, have seen it with our own eyes and accept it wholeheartedly, the lapse is too great, change is too certain, and what was once a thousand year old glacier is now the fountain you drink out of.  Now it is only a busy little Nepalese town where colorful buses pass, where street vendors and shops remind you of the growing indifference of what had once seemed normal, and a fleeting sense of accomplishment gives way to restlessness.  Could we have done more?  Having the trek over is short-lived, and looking back upon the hardships of the trail reminds one of a melancholic sort of comfort that creates new adventures and even more hardships before the time it takes your muscles to recuperate from the previous journey.  Pushing onese…

Wapiniwiktha: The Prophet's Exile

Here are the opening lines of a poem entitled: Wapiniwiktha; The Prophet's Exile--published in Woodland Poems.


There is a force connects one to the end
Of all things, that before the end
We may learn of it, and to us define
Of beauty, love, philosophy;
To make of intelligence more than what
It is—divine—and by that broad
Effort leave a trace upon the present
Of which all must experience:
The loss thereof; a loss that we may count
As meaningless until it fools
The heart of a greater man; the repute
Wherewith, from his maternal tribe
Outcast, the prophet Wapiniwiktha
Was lately stung.

Douglas Thornton