I climb the precipice
trying to reach its peak.
It is a steep climb and
every step is perilous.

It is a game I realize
me against this mountain.
The cards are spread out before me now;
I must play the game.

If I win, perhaps I will be contented
or will I try to climb yet another mountain?
I try to get out of the game,
but the climb back down seems impossible.

I scream "I'm beaten, I have to stop!"
But the mountain is deaf to my pleas --
It has filters on its ears that pick and choose,
so my words are lost.

I reach a safe spot and pause to rest.
Noticing a cave I think maybe I can sleep,
just for a little while.
I enter the cave and am engulfed by
its utter blackness.
I want to run back into the sun,
but it too will suffocate me.
Finally, I sleep.

I awake from my slumber dazed and tired
But continue the climb as I know I must.
Making progress now I feel a renewed
sense of strength and faith.
Perhaps it will all be worthwhile.

Seeing the peak now, I know I am close.
Will I make it? I just don't know.
But I persevere, scratching and clawing
my way.
My hand reaches over to pull me up
to the ever elusive vertex.
I lose my footing and feel myself
falling, falling.

As I plunge downward I realize it's my own fault.
I scream "I'm sorry for my selfishness!"
but my words are thrown to the wind.
Somehow the mountain takes pity on me.
I land close to the ground badly bruised
but alive.

I look up at the tremendous force above me
and realize I have to stop fighting it.
I must learn to accept that it is the ascent
that matters, not reaching the zenith.
That is for another time, another place.