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Description
Mountain Climber

By Dennis Lambert

Some say the pursuit
is too dangerous
and too arduous
for one so old

And yet, even
at night
the icy slopes
shine

and tell me
the mountain
has a heart

so I feel
for the foothold,
tenuous
amid the
crags

though in a moment
this complexity
can shrug me
to ice fields
below.

Sometimes I ask
'Why has my mountain
hidden her heart?

Has her heart been wounded?

Is her heart distant only
to make mine stronger?

Or is peril
her way of knowing
only the worthy
will arrive.'

I have seen the warm tidal pools
by the shore

And I have seen the heart of
a meadow pulse in the spring

And these are beautiful.

Yet, it is the hidden mountain
heart that draws me

For I know it is there

And feel it in the rush of mountain streams,

And hear it in the echo of hidden valleys,

And imagine, perhaps, over this cold ledge

or beyond this pack of ice

It will be there

most beautiful because
it has been hidden

and most warm,
because it embraces

after the coldness of the climb.

***

Poem's source : [link]

PS : I took the picture in Poland, near Zakopane

Description
Mountain Climber

By Dennis Lambert

Some say the pursuit
is too dangerous
and too arduous
for one so old

And yet, even
at night
the icy slopes
shine

and tell me
the mountain
has a heart

so I feel
for the foothold,
tenuous
amid the
crags

though in a moment
this complexity
can shrug me
to ice fields
below.

Sometimes I ask
'Why has my mountain
hidden her heart?

Has her heart been wounded?

Is her heart distant only
to make mine stronger?

Or is peril
her way of knowing
only the worthy
will arrive.'

I have seen the warm tidal pools
by the shore

And I have seen the heart of
a meadow pulse in the spring

And these are beautiful.

Yet, it is the hidden mountain
heart that draws me

For I know it is there

And feel it in the rush of mountain streams,

And hear it in the echo of hidden valleys,

And imagine, perhaps, over this cold ledge

or beyond this pack of ice

It will be there

most beautiful because
it has been hidden

and most warm,
because it embraces

after the coldness of the climb.

***

Poem's source : [link]

PS : I took the picture in Poland, near Zakopane