Climbing Like Me
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Climbing Like Me
I climb to some lofty place I've never known, as one by one...,
my feet alight the ladder rungs, though blistered now.
I look up from the swaying, rickety works that ascend toward the heavens.
Dreaming of down below..,
where there is a ground.
Now, try to remember what it felt like to walk barefooted...,
through grass, and mud, and the sandy stream bed.
From this vantage, the distant vista, my toiled years I see.
The meadows, the hills, and the misty mountains beyond.
I take my rest and watch the children playing far below,
and feel the coolness of the growing twilight.
Down below there is a chance for redemption.
Up here, on this ladder of my choosing..,
there appears none.
Thirsty now, so many years gone, I long for the taste of cool water,
that flows so far below, so cool.
A small smirk plays across my face as I begin the climb again.
I look out for miles, at the multitude of ladders.
All of them climbing, squandering precious moments...
like me.
Copyright © Quoth Theraven | Year Posted 2018
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