From Art of Mind: Philosopoems to the World
At sunrise, as the sky begins to clear:
So begins The Hike.
With nothing new on the horizon,
I still aim to make the outdoors great.
I’ll settle for making it back intact.
On weekends I may roam unconstrained,
On This day I lug a Backpack —
Intended to forefend fail,
on This rigorous trail.
Bitter winds, whipping debris, and stony ground
Renders my body achin’,
True pioneers must stay the course,
And keep walking the path less taken.
My algid chill cannot repress
The labored sweat that drops
as briskly as the sloping temperatures.
Still, I march uphill with poise and tenacious
Every step commands determination,
As the earth stiffens and
the Cold winds
Continue to pick up Steam.
As I stand in place,
Yet blowing against the wind—
I eye the formidable
And I Climb.
In the face of conditions
that would make the ordinary man
fall off the steep end,
or camp out,
I choose to climb.
Amidst any Storm,
Beneath any dark hovering cloud,
You will Never see any rain on this face.
Only a hardened brow
and staid visage.
Amidst the most severe
Among the Highest of Mountains,
I smile tirelessly,
and laugh incessantly.
I have seen the bottom,
I have felt the hardest drop…
I may fall by nightfall,
but right now—I’m at the top.
Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved
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