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."
Copyright ©
Tim B | Year Posted 2011
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