Above the trees and clouds
The mist waves on beneath the blue,
Whatever struggle to such heights forgotten,
On high, vast peaks reveal what’s good and true.
No sounds but vapor crushing into towers,
The ebb and flow along the purple valley,
The loud call of a fruitful hunt –
The joyful song to make your spirit rally.
From cliffs and crumbling slopes we hung,
Our lives in flash, the outcome in great doubt,
Sweat frozen on our brow all but a dream,
Along with gaping falls and ice – the treacherous bout.
Whatever slips and slides marring our descent,
Whatever winds and pits and hardships yet to come,
Do not exist above the cloudy seas,
When all earthly grievance is long said and done.
Only here, where few do venture,
Where only the brave take dare and climb,
Only in the rare and pure well of breath
Are we alive and feel the absence of all time.