Poetry of John Shaw

      The Mountain and Me 1987

      Summer 1987

      Today a mountain
      it came to me
      A mountain so grand
      and proud, and tall
      that I could barely see
      the top at all
      I wondered some
      as I watched its heights
      could I climb its
      sheer shaves of ice
      could I conquer, conjured I
      whilst the still mountain stood
      and filled the sky
      and if I can
      why should I
      who am already ragged wrought
      and beaten by
      the years I've seen so slow and mean it seems
      I would have died
      yet here I stand
      I must ask myself in all truth
      did I survive
      to run and hide
      my talents taught
      though dangerous they may be
      or am I alive
      to be bold and strive
      and not let pass
      any mountain I might see
      which is best
      I do not know
      but as for me
      I cannot rest
      the mountain I must go
      for to live and die
      and not be bold
      would make me tired
      and oddly old
      as if I've lived before
      when I haven't yet
      so I climbed the mountain
      and you can bet
      that I tarnished the top
      in hard earned sweat
      then down I flew
      with spirit reborn
      both strong and new
      for I had accomplished
      a task of my talents
      an act through which
      one maintains their balance

      I really did climb a mountain before writing this poem.

    Email: john@jfds.net

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