The Man Who Climbed the Mountain

The Man Who Climbed the Mountain.

I went to climb a mountain
To see the lofty view,
But the journey turned out to be more difficult
Than I expected it to.

I started up the path
And soon I saw a field of flowers.
I plucked a few, I smelled the scents,
And lost a couple of hours.

I began along the path again
But soon the path grew very steep.
I slowed, I wandered back and forth,
Night fell, and I had to leave.

The next day I started up again,
Committed to reaching the top.
Past the flowers, up the climb,
Determined not to stop.

The path turned thin, along a cliff
And I almost turned back to the base.
It took me hours, step by step,
To conquer my fear in that steep place.

I passed flowers in the final stretch,
Walked along cliffs, climbed paths quite steep.
It wasn’t as hard as it was at first.
Then, finally, I reached the peak.

I saw the view a different man
Than the one who started out the climb.
I conquered my distraction, laziness, and fear,
And in the end, that is what made the view so sublime.

We fall because it’s hard to climb

Originally published 07-12-19

I came across the title line for this poem in my old notes, and thought about how really, if you think about actual rock climbing, a lot of the effort is made before the climb even begins. Most people don’t make it to the top of the cliff because they don’t start climbing.

We fall because it’s hard to climb

Not many gather ropes and harnesses,
tools and chalk and carabiners,
Not many arrange with a buddy
to belay each others’ climb.

Not many leave the valley
and head to the mountains.
Not many make the time to go and
face a sheer rock face.

Few will reach up when tired
for the next slim handhold,
Few pull a belayed companion
who needs a little boost.

Few ascend a cliff face,
and few summit a mountain.
Few can turn and look and see
the world they’ve overcome.