High atop a soaring mountain I stand alone.
What lies beneath, besides my tired soles;
they have carried me well; I have no regrets.
Euphoria envelops my being, my soul cries out!

This mountain cares not that I am here.
This earth feels naught;
the patter disappears without a trace,
the somber noise deafens the quiet.

Visages dance proudly in the distance,
reflecting across gently flowing pools;
spittle of the sky dampens my spirit;
this pinnacle has been conquered.

As I reprise my role in days gone by,
I am reminded of rainy days.
Drenched overcoats bemoan the deluge;
Why must it rain!

Copyright ©2008  Keith E Blackie