Climbing
Oh the view, up here you can see the world
Distance so much of it, no end of it
And down! Oh down, it is so far away
We came from there, son and me
On rope sure, strapped in harness, metal kit
A protection we tried to ignore
A team we made from start to here
Fingers feeling for holds, each tiny hold
Skin on cold rock, each little cleft
Toes seeking to perch if only for a moment
Challenging yes, moments when the heart skips
Nervous laughs, care to throw me a crab, a friend, a sling?
Words so funny, but might save our lives
Each in turn we lead a pitch, playing out rope
Not father or son, a pair, each skilled, sharing the delight
Sharing the little fears, sometimes the comedy of a slipped hand or foot
Laughing it away with shaky voice
Up and up, we move, crawling on a vertical plane
Breeze, fresh, open and such freedom
Two tiny figures in a joined endeavor
As fingers curl over the edge of the slab
As son pulls up to the top
Then we stand, together excited, proud
From up here we can see the world
Picón de Jeres,
Andalucía 2010
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