Mountains

MOUNTAINS

Mountains appear before me,
numerous odd shaped entities.
I stand at their base in awe,
filled with wonder.

The air is icy cold,
a portent of what awaits.
In the silence, I can hear myself think.
It is a noisome cacaphony.
All this is drowned out by the presence before me.

I will have to climb alone or get nowhere.
Nobody is there to reach out.
Nobody wants to.
It's a world of get and get more...
I have no ropes or links to help me.

Then I put my foot foward on the cold, jagged rocks.
I search out for soft places to absorb.
I turn back and look, frozen by fear
of the enormity of the task ahead.
I have only taken two steps and don't see,
the fourth man.

I persist and climb for years.
I look back and see that he was tending my cuts
and bruises along the way,
invisibly.

All along...
waiting on the top too.
What a breath-taking view we enjoy.
I am not alone.
No, no more.

'How lovely on the mountains are the feet,
of him who brings good news, announcing peace,
proclaiming news of happiness...'

We still climb,
even if the rock rolls down again.


Jason Dhanapalan
19H05 est.