"The coming month shall bring winds of change in your life"
The mountain.
We try to climb it,
our reasons,
ever so varied.
Some seek challenge,
to refuse the world's rules,
and to prove their own.
Others hunt for enlightenment,
that true peace
they can't find
looking up at it's peak.
More still seek inspiration,
something to live for,
some wonder to transcribe
in their own art.
To escape their own world,
to chase another on their journey,
to grow as a being,
to secure finality.
But sometimes...
Sometimes,
we climb
to climb.
The wonder is alive
as you wander up,
no reason to justify
reasoning.
Words can be words.
Writing to write,
walking to no destination,
living life...
We forget such pleasures
when the mountain crumbles.
Every curveball
has potential
to strike you out.
It's how we answer the pitch
that determines forward motion.
I sit on the side of a mountain,
my intention to live life how I please.
The changing winds are already flying by,
their debris still something to tidy.
For all in all,
their mountain can't move far,
the moon keeps shining borrowed light,
and, lying down or or standing up,
we move at impossible speeds.
We may as well keep on walking.
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