Wengen

Wengen


Halfway around the world
in a dream I don’t quite remember
sits Wengen, quiet and passionate
atop rough mountains with old man’s hands
covered in a quilt of lichen and moss.
Wengen who sits a shepherd to the towns
grazing below in the valley of lights
mirroring the twinkling of night sky stars.
A monastery sits in a vow of silence
on a brother mountain within view
of a hotel window, shutters open
to let in mountain air.

I stand on a balcony
in a dream I can’t quite recall
looking down upon a wooden cabin
as it hides beneath a snowy mountain
with veiling clouds hiding Man’s scar upon
a modern day Tolkien kingdom who
even in musical festivities became
the most peaceful place on earth
I had ever known.

I sit on the seat of a train car
traveling down the side of the mountain
with shaking squeaks on the tracks mourning
their goodbyes to a place where stone cobble sidewalks
once greeted the feet of weary travelers
and now greet the feet weary tourists.

Halfway around the world
in a dream I don’t quite remember
I sit on a train car and watch Wengen fade
into the clouds of the mountain and I weep
with the waterfalls tumbling over rocks
flowing down into the valley of smog
mirroring the veil of mountain atmosphere.
A depot sits in a bustle of noise
and as I climb out and rejoin the human race
I look up at my Heaven on Earth
and vow I will return.

Wengen referes to Wengen, Switzerland.