After a great deal of climbing
I reached the top
and paused to admire things from
that new place. The sky was
a trio of hues (halcyon dragging to
teal fading to slate) and the sun was
a great big bright thing
(inflamed, illuminated).
Inch by inch, I lifted my arms,
as if to embrace the gusts of wind
licking at my skin.
I tilted my face toward
the volcanic dazzle and
stood there a while, imbued with
ponderous joy. The longer I
remained, the more sure of
everything I became,
of the steady drumbeat of energy
pulsing in the dirt,
of the synergistic tangle of
death and life.
My scalp began to tingle with a
giddy, glowing sensation:
a breathless sort of reverence
I had never known.
Oh, what a life,
I thought
and took off down that hill with
arms out like airplane wings,
not caring what the neighbors
might think