Mountain Muse

The clamber beats me up --- lost my path. I slide down a sheer ravine, try to ignore the sweat of panic in socks and boots. I hug a large rock. (bear cross these high ridges. There are sharp, hard to see, drop offs). I let the cool crag seep inside my closed eyelids, rest my forehead on the limestone; stop battling. Ravens and buzzards circle a compass of warm air, ascend and drop without effort. It’s then I know, I figure the way out; recall how to pass through this mountain - the one I had brought with me.