Mountain Climb

and where I long to be

Hi,

This week, I really want to climb to the top of a mountain.

the hiker
with weight held evenly between toe and heel
and a slight spring in the knees
as the rubber texture of boot sole
leaves the softness of soil
and begins its cling to the gray bare
rockface of the mountain
who has through switchback and sweat
come into admirable relationship with the hiker
who now stands upon a clearing
and witnesses from this new point of view
a larger sense of belonging
among the rolling past
and sprouting future that defines a valley.

surrendering there to the reality of wholeness
and the importance of a single worm under a log
who channels their streamlined purpose
in order for the ferns to frolic in forest shade
and the deer and wasps who weed and clean
and the tender care of a hawk who
spots and resolves an over population
with a piercing cry and divine given dive,
the hiker is among these things,
the footprint puddle in dirt,
web-destroying walking stick,
seed spreading socks,
transformer of air to breath.
here, in this arrival into 
nature’s honest assessment,
the hiker understands
that they too are beautiful.

In wordy wordiness,

Walter