East Lomond

if there is free will in the world
it lives in Scotland on the slope
of a little known mountain –
East Lomond

it wades through swamps
and clambers over fences
or takes us down between two rocky paths
straight to the change of mind

in forest
it melts us into dark patiently whispers
where to jump
to the other side of the river

it doesn’t bother to avoid the road
if only it leads by it’s way
it even sits upon a tree
to let its randomness run free

with roots and branches and the sheep
that happen to be around in time