The Mountain
The Mountain
By Muriel Palanca
I think of all I have endured to get to where I am.
Through rain and snow and freezing cold, I still have strength to stand.
I can’t believe I got this far, I tried and failed so many times.
I got so used to starting over, never crossing the finish line.
I never touched the frosted trees or admired the steel grey sky.
I took in air for mercy’s sake, never just to feel alive.
I only looked for quicker routes. I never marveled at the view.
I never thought that inner strength would be something I’d die to prove.
I never bowed in perfect awe to a piece of heaven I could climb.
All I saw was a mountain peak to be conquered and made as mine.
Its simple beauty escaped my eyes because I always searched for something more.
Now that I’m close to my goal, what have I done this for?
I’m almost there, two steps away, but there’s still so much I haven’t learned,
Like why each snowflake’s different, or if I scream will I be heard?
A shining moment of praise and glory, a great achievement within my grasp,
But if I am to stake my claim, I know it would be my last.
Looking from this mountain high to the ground that’s down below,
I hope I never reach the summit because then there’s nowhere left to go.
I close my eyes, I make a choice. I know it’s right, I turn around.
While the wind stays at my back, I make my trek back down.
A mountain climbed but unexplored wouldn’t mean a thing at all.
And if I ever reached the top, it would be a long way down to fall.