Mt Kinabalu
Date: Tuesday, 2nd December 2008 @ 08:01:56 AM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: audaudaud
Thirtieth of October at half past three,
cold sweat plastered the scalp of my head,
looking into the distant at this time, so early,
many more, were out of bed.
The worming line of little lights (from the headlamps of other climbers) far away,
marking out the long, long winding way,
blending beautifully with the stars in the sky,
i'll soon be part of this constellation, some time today.
The strong blowing wind like waves crashing against the shores,
against which I hear many other voices, many other calls,
speaking different tongues but panting in the same language,
working towards the same goal, despite race or age.
I knew i had to keep going on, keep walking up,
it's all up to walking on, not up to chance or luck,
it's not going to be easy, I didn't expect so,
and the only way to the top of the mountain, is up, just up.
As the air got thinner, my breath shorter,
my legs wearier, my speed slower,
it matters not, the number of times i trip and fall,
or stop to catch my breath or when my legs were sore.
The small pool of light from my lamp, ahead of me,
seemed to be cheering me on, guiding me,
to take the next step, to keep going on,
to take another step, and the next, that's the key.
It was like another stop, just another break,
to slow my breath, to warm my hands and ear.
But when the beauty of the view embraced me,
the feeling was just, simply surreal.
No photographs can express the moment in time,
the best camera had to be my senses, my heart and my mind.
So as i store safely this moment of time,
i ascertain the full worth of the long, challenging climb.
This poem is Copyright © audaudaud
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