The Climb

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Tags:
  • Life
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  • Spirit
    • ,
  • Self-direction
    • poetryrules
    • My status is: I don't know what to put here?!

    The Climb

     The Climb

    Climbing bare rock face,
    scaling my way up crumbling slopes,
    I strive to complete my journey.
    Up here, on this mountain,
    is a wealth of clean air to breathe.
    Up here, free of peopled clutter,
    I can gaze back on my pathway,
    question the course I have taken,
    study the unique journey that is mine.
    Oxygenated, invigorated,
    I will cross over to another view,
    survey the uncharted landscape below,
    compose my future as a poem.
    Then, I will descend, live that draft--
    perhaps disconcertingly solitary,
    maybe somewhat imperfect.
    Yet--directed completely by that
    which I myself scripted on once blank pages.
    My essence, my life--
    my own peculiar, exhilarating composition.

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    bandit1192 commented on The Climb

    11-29-2009

    I enjoyed the view. Up on your mountain seems like such a wonderful place to be. A place to think, a place to find that perfect, almost, path in life. Good poem, TS
    Reply to Comment

    poetryrules

    12/02/2009

    Thank you.

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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