Gathers the uttermost and complete ferocity and fuller focus – a gentle, two-tonne breath scales length both the tumultuous breadth
Of a universal perplexity. Namely Yosemite Valley: “Penitentiary, perhaps?” one bathes both basks and ultimately wishes to ask
Via a tear-strewn man, this serious yet equally subtle nerve-(l)edge representation
Of the terrifical human condition, which can – and will – miraculously manage to meet with the intimate inner details of its intricate inner-battle – all jaded and tired, tried-and-tested landscapes buoyantly embittered again…
And about to inconsiderately bounce by the prejudiced middle – so soon as one mere eagre foot loses its loyal range – fiercely fails at taking guaranteeing, free-ing, both fleeting aim
Strange, and strangely hero-worshipped indeed…
Is this mountain of Mime, albeit dangerously magnificent whilst at the exact same time, eye-opening aside inevitably … winning?