To hold a mountain tight within your fist
is a heavy, dragging kind of curse;
one that either makes a man strong
or leaves him unable to move.
AndI, capturing Everest
am yet sure which of the two I am.
Most often I am not alone
but there are days, like now
that everything but me has gone.
At times I can lift the sky like a lid
and see past into what is good.
At others I am completely blind
and stumble on even the smallest stone.
So my prayer, lifted to this January dawn
is that a mountain would become a ladder
that I would learn to climb
and so, somehow,
become the gold that won the fire.
Author notes
I'm growing up, I suppose. Some days are easy, some are a cliff that I can't yet take, but I've found a peace that digs low and flies high over any obstacles. May you, reader, find the same.
-Thefallout
www.theeverlastingfallout.com/read
A contest entry
- Poetry! by luna-midnight.
1800 points, ended January 24, 22 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
this is really good.i love it, but you need a space between andi.lol
but the poem is wonderful, and great message
thanks for entering and good luck
Stephanie ♥
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