Mont Blanc Redux

by John Olson

Percy Bysshe Shelley and Jack Kerouac climbed the western flank of Mont Blanc.

“The space around us is charged with divine energy,” remarked Percy.

“The juice is in the head,” said Jack.

“Let's walk to the summit.” 

They climbed to the summit and looked down at the earth.

“Look,” said Percy, “the stars are speaking to us across the void.”

“My stars are your stars,” said Jack.

Their beings were swimming with sensations, some cosmic and large, others small and green. Planet earth tilted and wobbled, and spun and spun.

“My head is full of rapture and stars,” said Jack.

“We are hanging in the void,” said Percy.

“Look at the delicacies in this rock.”

“They look like veins."

“Do you know that one day you will die?"

“Yes, and one day you, too, will die.”

“It's sad."

“Very sad.”

“And yet time is flexible. You can bend it.”

“Bend it into what?”

“You can bend a minute into an hour, or an hour into a minute.”

“And eternity?”

“That, too.” 

“Look at the brilliant wizardry of light as the morning spills like liquid gold over the Alps.”

“Let's go down and get us some breakfast. I feel like some bacon and coffee.”

“I don't eat meat. But some broccoli and tea would be grand.”

Percy and Jack walked down the eastern flank of Mont Blanc and returned to Geneva. On the way down, they marveled at waterfalls plummeting down rocky crags, and the secrets of the universe floated like bubbles in the splendor of their words.

“Thought is eternal in such surroundings.”

“This is where the Celts made their jewels.”

“And the mind of the universe glitters on the water.”

“And the mind of the universe glitters on the water.”