Christopher Haywood Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

This is the paradox of climbing toward success while actively severing the personal connection. 

A Summit of Silence

The engine roars, the metals gleam,
You race along the high-paved line,
To reach the summit of a dream
And claim the sky as yours and mine—
Or so you thought. The climb is steep,
The pace severe, the cold air thin,
And in the rush, you never keep
A tally of the quiet sin.

You build a tower, tall and bright,
A spire of stone against the blue,
With vaulted arches catching light,
Yet holding no one close to you.
For every friend was pushed aside,
And every hand was let go free,
To trade the warmth of love for pride
And secure a lonely victory.

At last the highway finds its end,
The final peak is brought in view;
No waiting crowd, no quiet friend,
No open arms to welcome you.
The crown is earned, the space is vast,
The wind blows sharp across the seat—
A solitary soul at last
Where no one ever cares to meet.

For status is an empty weight,
And power leaves a hollow sound,
If no warm voice can celebrate
The simple truths that you have found.
The prize was never just the height,
Nor standing on the peak alone,
But walking through the heavy night
With hearts that make the journey home.

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