From here, four thousand feet down
The Rocky Mountain Range
As winter subsides and spring begins
Purples and whites among the forest, up there, from here
My shaded porch by a hundred years old ash
I see where I once was, high above.

From here, as the tick, toc, tick, toc
Snuck through the air of time
As the children lost their wonder
The fancy climbing, the hold on tight
Of a tree swing dangled, beckoned
Them. They lost their spark
From here at this distance I see it all stuffed in the dirt of time.

When a mountain
   I dare not climb
the ropes and tackles  
  are in abundance

In great shape
  my body and mind
Not a weak link
in the expedition

But when a mountain
  I dare to climb
the ropes and tackles
  are often misplaced

Out of shape
  my body and mind
Weakness as a
  spell does bind

Hopes and dreams
  of tireless youth can
be all but forgotten
  in the spiritually aged

Strength   the glittering
  cloak of youth can
fade in weakening
  jaded resolve

But in me common
  traits dissolve
The bucking steed
  will never be tamed

Pigeon-holed the
  misfortune of other
souls   has not been
  allowed by my resolve

But this determination
  is not without cost
The foothills of youth
  are far removed

by erosion caused by
  unstable belief systems
washed away into
  the Sea of Ambiguity

A distant mountain
  I often see
(distance   the deceiver
  of proportion)

Challenged at the foot
  of the formidable sight
halfway climbing
  only to slip and fall

Does this mountain
  need to be climbed
Do youthful dreams
  need to be fulfilled

When these dreams
  are all you ever had
you wake up falling
  or climbing higher

Driven by dreams
  and gifts and talents
that rage like a river
  in the driest desert

calling home what
  must come home
holding on to what
  must be fulfilled

Obstacles that have
  become landmarks
seem to fade
   into obscurity

like threats that
  always remain empty
laughing at what
  used to bring tears

I remain standing
  through all these trials
not unscathed
  and a bit weather beaten

halfway up another
  formidable mountain
making up for lost time
  from a major fall.

When a mountain
   I dare not climb
the ropes and tackles  
  are in abundance

In great shape
  my body and mind
Not a weak link
  in the expedition

But when a mountain
  I dare to climb
the ropes and tackles
  are often misplaced

Out of shape
  my body and mind
Weakness as a
  spell does bind

Hopes and dreams
  of tireless youth can
be all but forgotten
  in the spiritually aged

Strength   the glittering
  cloak of youth can
fade in weakening
  jaded resolve

But in me common
  traits dissolve
The bucking steed
  will never be tamed

Pigeon-holed the
  misfortune of other
souls   has not been
  allowed by my resolve

But this determination
  is not without cost
The foothills of youth
  are far removed

by erosion caused by
  unstable belief systems
washed away into
  the Sea of Ambiguity

A distant mountain
  I often see
(distance   the deceiver
  of proportion)

Challenged at the foot
  of the formidable sight
halfway climbing
  only to slip and fall

Does this mountain
  need to be climbed
Do youthful dreams
  need to be fulfilled

When these dreams
  are all you ever had
you wake up falling
  or climbing higher

Driven by dreams
  and gifts and talents
that rage like a river
  in the driest desert

calling home what
  must come home
holding on to what
  must be fulfilled

Obstacles that have
  become landmarks
seem to fade
   into obscurity

like threats that
  always remain empty
laughing at what
  used to bring tears

I remain standing
  through all these trials
not unscathed
  and a bit weather beaten

halfway up another
  formidable mountain
making up for lost time
  from a major fall.

I'm glad that it was me.

When the moon turned dark
And you didn't know what you wanted to be
When you hadn't left your mark
I put the blame on me

When the scale started to tilt
And blood was all I could see
I watered your flower to not wilt
And kept mine away from the sea

In the silence between heartbeats
There's a loyalty I must keep
No matter how much I bleed
No matter how much I weep

And when you cause me pain
It means nothing
Because although you understand me
I guess that means something

If I hadn't been blamed
For something I didn't do
If you had been blamed instead
Who knows what you would do

I will carry this pain from mountain to fjord
If it means you will succeed
If it means that you are alive today
Then I know it was meant to be.

I'm glad that it was me.

In the distance, a mountain stands;
For thousands of years unchanging.
But look beyond the veil, and you will see
That its pain never truly ends.

The relentless winds blow away its crust,
The wrath of water carves its core.
For many years it stood the test of time;
How long can it last? Fall it must.

An eruption of emotion starts the end,
The mountain explodes from the inside;
Its top blows up: dark, thick smoke now fills the air,
Tired stones crumble, lava covers the land.

I’ve met dreams worth the future underneath their eyelids –
Those good enough to profit on; a dream’s hope for prophecy.
I sat in place of longs; longing to be heard, longing to smile,
Longing just to be – where is that perfect place of longevity?

Too many past thoughts – I’m a past life, and a list of regrets
Of course, I feel human; so humid, under these pressures of life –
Tears in my eyes, pools of emotions, and drowning in my sweat.

We'll strain walking up mountains, leading to life’s successes –
To taste that peak, and utter so proudly, “it was no easy feat,”
Even as right now, I feel stuck in place – I’ll still move my feet.

         Step by step...          Step by step...          Step by step...
                            Step by step              Step by step.

A, Norwe-
         gian, fjord,
             overlooking, loftily.
                        Like, sixteen-
                        aged, potential,
                   love. Like, several,
                         protege's; full,
                           and, predicted,
                                            futures.
                           The, raven's, eye,
                   intersects, the snow,
                       as, though, a, beauty,
spot, on, translucent, skins; a-black
-serpentine-rock-set-in-silver-sutures.
           I, counted, to, nine, as, the
magic, faded......... Mountainous,
                    terrain, murmured, with,
                           feathered, subtlety.
"To be, a fjord, is, to, truly, view,
   the world, &, know, cascading, change,
                      over, those, that, are, newer."

© poormansdreams

What will become of me?
Where will i go?
When the high hill paths are closed to me,
Escape, blocked in with snow.

Shall i now live in barren tundra?
And wait for new spring thaws.
Or anticipate the thunder,
So board up all my doors.

To risk the high hill paths,
At this late time of year.
Or barricade myself in thoughts,
Squalid solitude; and fear.

See one path leads to heaven,
And one leads straight to hell.
Do you know what will become of me?
I Promise i wont tell.

The mountain calls to me, demands my presence, I meet its gaze.

Me: What do you want from me?

Mountain: I want you to climb to the peak

Me: I can’t bring anyone else with me

Mountain: I do not ask of you to bring anyone else, in fact, you should leave them behind, now climb me

Me: No, I can’t just do that

Mountain: Whether you listen to them or listen to me, makes no difference but I know you, and you want to climb, with no safe pathway down, no net to hold you, you want to see from this height and this height alone

Me: What if I want off?

Mountain: Then jump, but know the ground awaits you, you are never free

I stand in its shadow.