This poem is called “Moving Mountains.”
I am this mountain. Can you see me? See me? See me? See me?
I’ve seen mountains move for ages
My eyes scanning through the rocky brown and dark green peaks of places traveled here before.
I journey through the still Battle Creek waters in the damp shadow of cold forest
Where evergreens are covered in the sweetest pines,
And the sky is the golden sunrise of this mountain
That after centuries towered above the blue boundaries of wind
Where eagles soar through the white coated clouds,
Looking for no one, but only to conquer.
How can I deny this wonderful territory that has been prohibited from me?
I gaze into a paradise place my mind can only wish to dream.
I’m this mountain. Can you see me?
Do the callous palms of my invisible hands
Clenched into the deserted mouths that have been untouched for so long,
The virgin ledge keep of thirst yearning for just a speck of touch.
From the body heart of a longing man that holds an ancient spirit just,
Just hoping to feel the light of day again,
This human trail becomes nothing but a stressful mystery,
And I become a long war soul,
Palm scratching through the towering landscape that refuses to eradicate my darkness.
Can I become more than a man, I
More than a tall, rocky pillar of flesh and shadow that stands alone here but,
Prouder than ever before?
I am this mountain.
Can you see me? See me? See me? See me?
These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.