my journal still smells like campfire...

Sun through trees, over trees, lighting morning
pulling steam and mirroring mountain
on the pane of the lake.
Trembled--and the mountain shudders,
shadows, shimmers.

Slowly squinted eyes, stillness & imagination re-
clarify and remind my mind.
Re-flection, re-fraction,
obscures the unobscured.

I thought about the mountain in the morning. The mountain on the water. Real or not real? I got annoyed at my philosophical-ness. And yet, I kept coming back to the thought.

Yes. The reflection is real.
Yes. It can be moved, it is not sturdy.

I'm thinking...is this the kind of authority Jesus has given us over mountains?