lyrics
The mountain was built out of time, one grain after another, like the bottom half of an hourglass. And like the bottom of the hourglass it contained moments that had passed—from everywhere and across all eras.
The hunter couldn't remember how he'd learned that, so it must be something he'd always known, by virtue of his being there, in the mansion across the mountain. Nobody had raised him, or nobody remotely like him in appearance, the touch he'd known growing up was the cold bite of frost, burn of the sun, and the hard pinch of the winds. He couldn't remember hunger, but neither could he recall ever eating; he'd been born, or brought there, or had risen from the very earth, or had simply been, forever.
One of his earliest memories was of walking out to the treeless plain surrounding the mansion, an expanse stretching from horizon to horizon in three directions and to the foot of the mountain in the west, and of running southward until his mansion could be covered up by his thumb, until his mansion was a notch on the horizon behind him, running until it could no longer be discerned, only the wizened mountain looming in the background, running elated until his mansion appeared again, ahead this time, as another smear, a miniature, growing, the smear blossoming into full size; and he slowed, then, crestfallen, stopped running because he'd reached home, having circumnavigated his world.
A world which showed him there was nowhere to go but up.
The hunter couldn't remember how he'd learned that, so it must be something he'd always known, by virtue of his being there, in the mansion across the mountain. Nobody had raised him, or nobody remotely like him in appearance, the touch he'd known growing up was the cold bite of frost, burn of the sun, and the hard pinch of the winds. He couldn't remember hunger, but neither could he recall ever eating; he'd been born, or brought there, or had risen from the very earth, or had simply been, forever.
One of his earliest memories was of walking out to the treeless plain surrounding the mansion, an expanse stretching from horizon to horizon in three directions and to the foot of the mountain in the west, and of running southward until his mansion could be covered up by his thumb, until his mansion was a notch on the horizon behind him, running until it could no longer be discerned, only the wizened mountain looming in the background, running elated until his mansion appeared again, ahead this time, as another smear, a miniature, growing, the smear blossoming into full size; and he slowed, then, crestfallen, stopped running because he'd reached home, having circumnavigated his world.
A world which showed him there was nowhere to go but up.
credits
from Garden,
released May 25, 2017
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Kalpamantra UK
Dark ambient digital
label, circa 2009.
discography
-
Mar 2022 -
Nov 2021 -
Jun 2018 -
Dec 2017
contact / help
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