Climbing Up
The land of beauty sitting high in the sky,
adorned with glistening white carpets on high,
virgin snows, virgin peaks, virgin territories,
like an exotic land pictured in adventure stories,
so beautiful, so majestic, so magnificent, so grand
as Mother Nature poses in her exotic wonderland,
calling to all climbers to climb up her perilous back,
to rise up to her lofted platform and sit down and chat,
an easy trek along her even sides and open trails
until they lost their easiness and became tough as nails,
and she assembled her clouds and blew forth her winds,
and I cursed at her when I couldn’t feel my limbs;
but yet I trekked on with what little strength was left,
rising up to the summit with shortness of breath.
And then I saw her penetrating eyes looking at me
as beautiful as the virgin waters of the deep blue sea.
She invited me into her snow palace filled with gold,
for me, the brave one, to have and to hold,
my reward to take home and remember her by;
for I was the first climber to reach her up so high.
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