Saturday, January 28, 2012

The Climb

I climbed to the tip of a pinnacle peak
Capped with the snow that turned the bright rays of sunlight into searing blinding rays of light.

Above me lay a true blue canopy with bright white wisps of clouds that resembled the padding that lined those boxes they put you in when you draw your last.

I was on top of the world? Far above the dreary carnage in the badlands below.

Up here,the thin crisp air burned in my lungs and made me feel alive, oh my friend all was well.

Yes, all was well as the last embers of fire dwindled down and I hunkered down in my sleeping bag.

No more matches meant no fire, no heat,no hope.

Two days in my frozen tomb. But now it was back to my mountain peak, I closed my eyes and climbed.


Brian Miller said...

the mountain top experiences keep us coming back to climb once more...metaphorically as well...smiles....

Sheila said...

What an experience - tough but worth it.

Semaphore said...

Reminiscent of long-line structures of Walt Whitman's poems.