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