Poetry

Summit Song

After the cruel hike,
the seemingly endless trail
here we are:
Strength spent and lungs exploding.
Our skins burn raw
Under the scorching brightness
of too much sun,
But we wanted all of these:
every ache, every trickle of sweat
and labored breath,
every dirt that clings to our faces
because at the mountains
there is a song:
of leaves quietly rustling little melodies
of blades of grass shivering in the wind,
of cicadas laughing,
of silence.
We arrive at the summit and the sky is so blue,
So blue as if the ocean is suddenly above us.
We are on top of the world breathing the universe
and in that brief moment,
Our spirits danced,
flew wild,
Soared-
Every mountain has a song to sing
And we know we are born
to follow the music.

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