Climbing This Mountain

I think I can make it. I think I cannot. I will not cry, but one more time won't make me stop. I will get over this boulder, I'll jump over this rock but then I fall and stumble, moving but not a lot. I breathe for a moment, sighing with goodbye, waving at the moments that just flew by and then I keep going looking at the trees. It is almost like every time the wind blows they speak to me. I see the drops coming, each one splattering on the ground, I see the sun shine and feel it burning down and I hear that water down deep below, yet still cannot see and I think "when I make it up there then I will know"

I am climbing this mountain. I am looking around. As each hour passes I find myself slowing down. Rock after rock and stone after stone my body grows tired as these days are growing long. I am climbing this mountain and I won't stop now. As I hear that water growing louder in sound. With each new boulder, I hear it more clear; here comes the thunder with more hail to pour down. Body growing older, I still fall and hit the ground. I wait just a moment but this time, this time I remember to look around.

Rock after rock, stone after stone; I made it to the top of this mountain that I had climbed for so long. Those days of falling, dreaming of this view; all I can think about is all of the boulders that I had outgrew. I climbed that mountain, stepped over stone after stone, rock and boulders, and some days felt alone. I stopped, walked and made it somehow. The days of walking, the tears that fell down, the feeling of the sun and the breath after running once I had overcome... This is what I see now that I am at the top. The sound of the water has calmed to a wisping stop.. Had I listened I would have heard the current. I climbed that mountain and now, I have to stop.