No Mountain Too High
Where a mountain meets the clouds,
a winsome smile and a whisper:
"Here am I, waiting."
Chubby faces pop out in the haze:
"We're at every step, helping."
While I gaze, goose bumps bristle
all over me; then a light shower,
the fog clears swiftly.
I see broad flight of stairs roll out,
racing up the steep mountain till
it punches through the clouds into...
At the smoking base a man grips
a shepherd's staff, eying the top.
Soon he jerks into firm brisk strides,
breezes up the rungs, face straight
as his figure fades into the glow.
Sweet ancient melody, sort of a ballad,
unbroken since the earth was green,
keeps streaming down—soft, soothing:
"Come up here, my beloved, come!"
I look up "Me?"
"Yes, get the focus right, the mind firm,
eyes on top the mount. Hold my grace,
ask for more; you sure will need.
"There's no mountain you can't scale,
nor are crags you can't heave over.
There's not a height beyond reach of grace,
though faith flounders under its shadow."
© 2017 Celestine S Ikwuamaesi
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