Climbing mountains suits you. Elevating the body, ever upward, the mind in the feet, Ensuring a steady sureness over obstacles inviting fate To upend life. The path is never trustworthy.
You can be you up there. The mountain hides that thing you dare not name, Saying it out loud would make your heart skip a beat, but loose rocks On the trail? No danger there.
The body is triumphant. Limits are forced back, the action is forward, upwards, What bound it yesterday has been removed, By modern genius. Old pain gives way to a new one.
What glorious effort it is. There is nothing to consider except the hazards In the thoughts that come flowing in from somewhere You cannot see. Is it the only annoyance?
The trail demands attention. The offering up of precious sleep for the Success of the climb pleases the mountain god, And so he smiles. You touch his face.
The big goal looms ahead. The irresistible challenge of the ever higher, ever Longer trails, the famous summit that beckons, It calls out. It excites you.
Looking forward is looking up. The love of it gives permission to take care Of you, and focus, on you, and center yourself On you. Is there anyone else?
Never mind those who crowd you. They don’t take up the challenge, or suffer the pain, Or persevere, or risk a tumbling down into the The abyss. They walk a different path.
Forget what is left behind. The Lover gives you up to the mountain, It is the sacrifice made on behalf of her sanity To see you gone. There is no expectation.
Yet what goes up must come down. The life one left behind below the clouds, the mundane, Returns as one approaches where the car is parked, Reality waits. The mortgage is due.