The sawtooth ridge,
Goes up and down.
And other peaks,
Are all around.
Talus, boulders, and
Rocky slabs.
Slippery scree,
That’s sliding free.
Clumps of ice,
Looming clouds.
Bits of snow,
Cold winds that blow.
It seems to be,
A jumbled mess.
The chaos,
Causes mental stress.
Scary heights,
Gurgling gut,
Hands are cold,
There’s no foothold.
A little voice in my head,
Says it’s time to stop.
But nonetheless I move ahead,
And keep on, keeping on.
And then it happens,
I round a bend.
The summit soars,
With mighty roars.
The clouds depart,
The sun breaks through.
To light the way,
And cheer the day.
A marmot chirps,
A Pika hides,
An Eagle floats,
A small bird chides.
A field of flowers,
Fills the sky.
The reds and yellows,
Make me cry.
The rocks give way,
To grassy slopes.
Now easy going,
No need for ropes.
And then, I’m there,
Flatland’s below.
I’ve reached the top,
Rewards bestow.
I’m glad I listened,
When he said,
Take one more step,
And move ahead.
