The Climb


Part of an Intimate Poem Series

Photo by Tommy Lisbin on Unsplash

I am exhausted.

This void I have been suppressing yet assessing keeps growing more and more mountainous. A mountain so big, no matter where I seem to look, it follows me. I can’t seem to escape it. It reins over the land and my mind.

A mountain so big, I can’t even seem to climb it.

Every attempt results in defeat. Each effort exhausts all my mental and physical power. Sometimes, the summit feels so out of reach, nothing but a myth.

With each grab, with each step up, with each grunt forward, I continue to fight. It is in my nature. A fighting spirit.

But sometimes, that fighting spirit needs to stop fighting. Little did I know, I was fighting myself. I was fighting my need to enjoy the climb. With every grab I miss, with every little injury, with every heavy-breathing moment I feel like I am on the brink of losing my life like the crumbling rocks behind me, I never seemed to realize its significance or presence. The climb meant nothing to me. But now, it means everything. Because one day, I will fall off that mountain into the foggy mist cloud that lies beneath, with no return in sight. An avalanche may come swallowing me and everything en route. The possibilities of the end are endless.

What lies ahead on this climb? I do not know. That does not matter. But what I do know, is that I want nothing more than to embrace every aspect of the climb. How? This to me, is still a mystery. A mystery to remain a mystery.



Introspective Maniac

A field producer who tells stories that inspire and spark perspective shifts