The mountain lifts as memory: Fire Mountain where are you now? A frown, an insight, one calculation and the mountain is out of sight. Rocks, trees, old orogenies: an instinct that lifts its voice and roars: Why am I here? Why am I anywhere at all? Being is as strange as being is. When the soul is withdrawn the Beast walks free. But what a beast! This Beast has depth- less eyes with genuine calculations.