The Climber
We should seek the mountain peeks.
The end of all
that sets before us.
But vastness often
quells intent,
And renders those
With driven souls,
lost and sullen
At the base.
Above the grounds,
The clouds abound,
The smudgy sky,
defined by height,
The presence of
The light to guide,
A knotted rope,
Thrown with hope,
That most deny,
Afraid to try.
It seems our fate,
To hesitate,
The rugged climb
To horizons light
Where jagged peeks,
Wait to greet,
Our savage palms.
Though silent
And calm-
Drenched in sweat
cold and wet
We hold onto
What we regret-
A slippery grip,
A bitten lip,
Chapped and raw,
We trip
And fall.
The top beyond
our weary grasp,
Our past we can't
Seem to outcast,
the picture fades,
An ashen shade-
Of charcoal lines,
A distant sight-
Of sky and pines,
Slighted paths
And rusty signs-
