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The Journey of a Lifetime

Is it a mountain range?

I think that’s strange

To start in the plains

Through the foothills and rains

Over streams and lakes to bulky terrains

 

Up and down, and up a bigger one still

It starts as a game, one big thrill

The valleys are sweet and the peaks high

How high could they get? To the sky?

Maybe high enough that you can fly!

 

What’s on the other side? More plains perhaps?

Or maybe an ocean, with breaking white caps?

No one’s ever made it so we’ll just have to guess

Some say at one point the height is much less

But that’s not firsthand information, so I digress

 

The path is strewn with bodies whose stamina wore out

But signs on their necks read, “This is what it’s all about!”

You can’t know what that means until it happens to you

When you’ve shattered your dreams, and your legs feel it too

But you’ll miss these people who tread paths for such few

 

Perhaps you’ll find where the peaks get a little lower

You won’t find it by resting, push on! Upward and over!

There’ll be bruises and scratches aplenty for sure

For this wondrous disease there is no known cure

The majesty of the mountains is a deadly lure

 

So many have tried to reach the other side

They’ve sweat and they’ve bled, they’ve fallen and cried

But to stop is to go mad with curiosity and thought

About what lays beyond, what the dead have sought

So we climb and we climb, even if all for naught

 

Then we find that perhaps it’s not been worth doing

Were it a play we’d probably be booing

Then we think of the foothills, of much simpler days

When the son shone blinding and we danced in his rays

And we wonder if there was a pass we’d missed on our ways

 

All the while climbing to the end of our days

As the sun starts to dim but casts a dark haze

And we wished we had enjoyed the peaks

Climbing and climbing for thousands of weeks

And then a slight rose comes to our cheeks

 

We lie down for a moment and softly cry

Take one final look at the blueblack sky

Then sit up straight, nice and stout

Confidently moving, no shadows of doubt

And don on our necks, “This is what it’s all about!”

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Written by
mark-brannan
Published
Mar 11, 2012
Lines·Words
45·400
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