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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