Mountain

High on the hill was my rock. A rock that filled my heart. A rock that from the ground inspired me to start. Where climbing felt as powerful as legs in steady force. And breathing meant the warmer air was fresher for the course. The whole time passing earthy scents with each new boulder passed. The green moss giving comfort from the hillside looking vast. When reaching what I'd have to call the world's highest view. The hardest substance under foot to make a man feel new. The place where I thought everything was perfect in my sight. Exhilleration rising up with power, fear and might.