The High Mountain Pass

Jagged peaks like knives erupting from the virgin snow 
Woods in dark ravines sheltering nature's life.
Grass beginning to grow at the end of July 
High as a kite in the mountain passes.

I found myself there 
In the solitude of raw creation
Where Eagles soar
And the voice of the Soul could be heard.

Far from the maddening crowds 
Above the incessant 21st Century chatter
Away from 3G, 4G and 5G
Sheltered by their granite arms 

I walked the high mountain passes alone
No need for endless connectivity
Electronic productivity
The only sound the wind
The sweet caress of the Sun

Thoughts began to clear
Mind unencumbered by the electric smog which bedevils us in so called "civilisation."

I walked the high mountain pass alone
I had no need to be connected to a phone 
When all around me was beauty and peace
And a silence so profound that I would happily have never come down.