The Mountain





The Mountain 


In front of me a wall.

Made of stone and snow.

Behind me a life of calm.

A world I used to know.


I plant my feet and begin my climb.

Each step a daunting task.

The ground is lax and loose.

How will I make it past?


I stride and I stumble.

I slip and I fall.

Each setback, a lesson

To continue my haul. 


As I slide, I reach,

For anything to grope.

I extend my arm out.

My hand finds a rope.


A helping hand,

From strangers before.

To stop with my fall,

And assist with this chore.


I pull myself forward,

Press hard with my feet,

Looking behind me,

I see no retreat.


I have climbed too high,

To consider a plummet.

Just ahead of me,

I find the summit.


I press on.




***


God Bless!




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