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The Climb
From the base I looked aloft.
Majestic, intimidating vastness.
Was I able to muster that courage,
to accept the challenge before me?
Weighing upon my shoulders, as if dead weight.
I felt apprehension bear down.
Surveying the mount, foot to summit.
Echoing voices of companions, waxed dim.
Leering questions I must respond to.
Not, can I succeed an attempt?
Nor, do I possess the required ability?
But, do I retrieve the gauntlet laid before me?
Opportunity has presented itself.
My decision must be forthwith.
With haunting anxiety, I stepped to the face.
I will, dispel fear’s tremulous whispers.
I grasp the first outcropping,
grip tightly, secure a foothold.
Defying gravity’s tug,
hoist myself to a loftier station.
Pressing myself to the promontory’s breast.
Grasping at each crevice ‘n crack.
Straining, slowly pushing higher.
Faintly, I hear my comrade’s cheers.
With measured breath, pursue my quest.
This is now, no time to gloat.
Though my confidence rides on high.
I dare not chance, glance above.
Then, piercing my perseverance.
A welcome voice rings through.
“You’ve made it lad, to th’ top! ”
Now, I reflect to my climb through life.
Each obstacle, like the mountain.
Hurdles, I must overcome.
Grasping at each opportunity,
to secure long sought success.
11AUG06
poem
by
Kurt Hearth
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