Malice in the sun's gleam,
blinding off of ponds and rocky surfaces alike,
from an ironically guiding institution,
eternal.
The night stars inspire more trust;
heavenly circuitry.
Nerves of fire, they persist,
winking from the nether.
Instinct in the sky.
Learn to trust these, maybe.
Bare, tender feet ache to meet the atmosphere.
Reddish, cracked cushion
with darker, firm exterior;
trudging over scaly mud.
The wind blows
and the nausea of letting go pangs,
but there is height on the horizon.
Every step elevating,
memory's breath excavating
ropes that burn while toward them, reining,
still on, forward, my soles take me.
Big pictures melt into finer details the closer you get,
not entirely dislike grey slush hardening into concrete;
closing the distance on a mountain.
Jutting skyward
at the cusp of rock and ground,
the wisely weathered mountain's face.
Exhausted to the point of numb preparation,
I begin ascent.
The higher I trek, the more ferocious the wind coldly screams,
wailing directionless,
into ringing ears that no longer hear
and over worn skin that barely feels.
On the snow-capped summit, nothing but a view.
My mind returns to seeing the shore from the ocean,
now thankful for a different perspective.
No comments:
Post a Comment