Meander

I meandered up the snaky path winding sinuous to summit. Climbing was an easy course when the grade ascended in baby-steps, on and on, gradual. Once I started to climb, the summit was never in view. Ahead, only the next bend. A script of twists and turns around the slope of scenes on way to culmination. Having made it to the lookout the valley lay spread out before me. There I saw the river snaking across its flood plain, meandering. No slope to climb. No need to wind. Yet the mighty river chose the gradual snaky path, meandering to realization, of destination out of view.