Now matter where I go, what I thing, and the things I do. At the end of the day, I think. And my mind goes to the mountains. Imagery of standing at the throat of the world and looking out at the vastness of Earth and what beauty remains of her. A long a life Gaia had and continues, I am still young the day I write this but the past is ever present. Close my eyes I hear forgotten memories, look up at the sky that can only be seen above many of the clouds and see a sea of ghosts, look down and see the soils that carry countless souls and hearts of the what has been. And its Gaia's many mountains that connect them. And one day, my voice will echo the winds. My light will join the stars, and my soul and heart will join those who have had their past as I did. Thinking these things I, somehow, feel at ease. I stand there and think, all things that are and has been will be reborne, even the towering mountain. They'll crumble and break. Rock fades to sands, soils shifts away, and snow makes it happen. But in time the mountain will be reborne, maybe not as mountain but instead though everything that carries its echo. That shine upon the skies. And the rests upon the soils that now carries the heart of the mountain. Even Gaia herself will one day follow. spreading to new skies, merging with new soils, and traveling the sea of ghosts.
