Dad said uphill was home
All we had to do was climb, he said
First was saying to roam,
Mom was afraid if I was dead
Could Not roam, couldn't walk
One the way had no one to talk
Masters said we need to go solo
Covered half, when I looked down it was low
The path was good, but wasn’t my favourite
Simple jumping was more than climbing rate
Dad seemed off, like was unconscious
Mom was calm, as she in prayer
The way uphill is paved
With Winter white and cherry lips;
Silver wings filigree-engraved,
Runners’ serpentine-slips.
With Winter white and cherry lips,
Calmness after the blizzard winds.
Runners’ serpentine slips.
A child’s whim, hallelujah hymns.
Calmness after the blizzard winds.
The landscape, a breath of fresh air.
A child’s whim, hallelujah hymns.
Imprint of angel’s fair.
The landscape, a breath of fresh air,
Silver wings filigree-engraved -
Imprint of angel’s fair.
The way uphill is paved.
Pain flows uphill, slow as shadowed streams,
Each step a burden, each breath a sigh,
Yet in the stillness where salt winds gleam,
The waves, like whispers, catch and reply.
The Oceanside hums with an ancient tune,
A lullaby sung to the restless heart,
Healing unfolds beneath the pale moon,
In the sea’s soft touch, all grief departs.
Health rises gently, a sun reborn,
In the swell of tides, in the break of foam,
From brokenness, the spirit is torn,
But here in the sea, it finds its home.
Softness lingers, a tender embrace,
The ocean’s hands hold without demand,
The ebb and flow, a sacred grace,
As pain retreats from the shore of sand.
And though uphill the river may climb,
Here by the waves, there’s peace in time.
cold sweat
t
r
i
c
k
l
e
s
d
o
w
n
your fevered brow.
the mountain wind,
an unforgiving barrier,
roaring...
"go down!"
pay no mind, friend,
instead, surge
d
r
a
w
p
u
the odds seem
against you.
your body and spirit
scream...
"Please STOP!"
via panting
and labored breathing;
teeth chattering
and on rubber legs...
don't stop, keep
g
n
i
d
n
e
c
s
a
push...
do not quit now!
push, push, push, push...
keep pushing!
you rest
at the top.
I
want
to reach
the summit
in my uphill climb
with a firm determination.
In the flush of hot summertime, I took the scenic route,
Up a hill of pine trees, when all of nature was in fruit!
All along the fragrant path, I relished that winding road,
Swept away by multitudinous colors, beauty had bestowed!
The dawn had grown so lovely, with its cotton candy skies,
So like the debut of springtime, in its blushing surprise!
And I was welcomed with sweet songs, into Birdland Manor,
In the blooming golden age, of nature's youthful glamour!
Have a great birthday, dear Winchil,
Uphill climb turns into glory;
It is easy to walk downhill,
It takes pain to gain victory.
Topic: Birthday of Winchil D. Marasigan (March 29)
uphill stretch
homebound
smoke in the chimney
posted on June 30, 2018
Life's a One Way, Uphill.
Every Wrinkle on your Face
Marks a Step of Maturity.
You go Up not Looking
At the Peak but Dreaming
Of Sliding Down, Trying to
Look Younger than You Are.
I walked in places dark and lonely,
slowing down ready to give up get go,
always imagining every corner turned a brick wall,
ever ending steps uphill to only fail no will.
Waters passed frozen so cold,
broken glades from freezing breeze,
in the shadows hiding fear
opened eyes looking far and wide.
Letting go forgiving without forgetting,
once a struggle with no will
steps come easy light indeed,
finding the flame within growing,
A being that walked darkened hills,
shines so bright with neon light
never a dimmer to such a glow
radiant graceful a happy soul.
Uphill is the appointed track
For the anointed scholar
Who his brains continues to wrack;
As his hair keeps growing taller
And his paths persist to be dark.
Uphill is the blessed path
That is to few prescribed;
His ordinations are not out of wrath
But are by love described.
I choose to go uphill
And upper go still,
Till it's no more this fleeting breath
When chariots carry to the Utopia of death.