Javelin sharp and Heaven bound,
peak pierces blue sky
seeping now to wounded red
as bloodied sun sets slowly
into Hades' depth.
Peace descends
to heal the wound of dusk
and anguished colour drains to gold
as cotton mist wraps
all in quiet calm.
Rising cool and icy slow,
a virgin moon, crescent formed
and silver touched, heals
and sooths as sleeping
Jomolungma dreams
of dawn and waking life.
By her feet,
her sleeping children wait
to triumph at her lofty breast,
humble hearts and
tribute rich.
She waits,
Jomolungma - Lady of the Snows
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