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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
alive.
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
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Comment:
I really did climb a mountain before writing this poem.
Email: john@jfds.net
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