The Kanchenjunga Mountains so close – Everest looms in the remote distance.
The mist covered tea hills of Darjeeling even with their exquisite beauty,
pale in the shadows of the eternal Everest.
He is mysterious and he knows best.
He is calm and stands mighty in all his masculine power and presence.
If you are fortunate, from the Darjeeling heights, he will expose himself to you.
A flasher demanding the expression of surprise.
His presence is calling, daunting, and daring;
flirting with those who know to answer his call.
Taunting – he stands hypnotic and majestic.
Many will fall and leave their souls behind for the
mountain whisperer to find.
Upon his discovery is the recovery of a spirit now set free.
Some spirits fight to stay behind so they may enter the dreams and hearts
of those entranced – those who will dance with the spirit of Everest.
Nestled in the tea hills of Darjeeling, caught up in the day to day,
the mist keeps Everest at bay – hidden in plain sight.
He calls not to the tea folks below – he leaves them alone.
For he knows they belong.
It is the rest of the world he seeks, and when he speaks,
their hearts receive the summon.
The call of the mighty – for some – an invitation they cannot resist;
a whisper that silently settles in the heart – a seed awaiting its germination.
Many are beckoned to visit the tea hills of Darjeeling, and some never know why.
The seed not yet to sprout – perhaps not in this lifetime.
Everest waits – he knows no haste.
He knows he will still be there.
Shielded by the mist – clouds that bow down to the almighty Everest;
they keep his secrets – they shroud his presence – they fall in reverence.
On a rare and special occasion – they part only for mere seconds – and offer the
attuned viewer – the sight of a lifetime.
The grand and grandiose Everest stands stoically still while it towers over
and guards all the precious tea hills of the endearing Darjeeling.
~Dharlene Marie Fahl~