The Climb

Surrendering atop the tip top of the world Beauty surrounding this bliss that unfurled A flag of freedom, who knew me up here? God did, painted this picture in the clear Breath of cool mornings, crisp and pure, A blue painting. High, high enough to see my fears below Low, low enough to still be afraid, although I could leap the distance and meet them, Head on as they say, head first and cram The lot of it in, but it was too much to take Internally. Spirits come up here on the mountains edge To talk to those who surmount the summit ledge So I spent awhile and told them my troubles They said, "son... down there it just doubles" Knowledge is not always power, helpless feelings Flow. God was there too, at the top of the peak Not everything was doomed to be bleak With his hand outreached now, I began to wonder Wonder if he wanted me here, sounds of thunder Crashing loud in the distance he looked down at me And he said, "Climb back down, you aren't ready to stay, Besides... the true beauty in life and death is only seen on The climb."