Javelin sharp and Heaven bound,

peak pierces blue sky

seeping now to wounded red

as bloodied sun sets slowly

into Hades' depth.

Peace descends

to heal the wound of dusk

and anguished colour drains to gold

as cotton mist wraps

all in quiet calm.

Rising cool and icy slow,

a virgin moon, crescent formed

and silver touched, heals

and sooths as sleeping

Jomolungma dreams

of dawn and waking life.

By her feet,

her sleeping children wait

to triumph at her lofty breast,

humble hearts and

tribute rich.

She waits,

Jomolungma - Lady of the Snows