My Mountain

It's never easy, but it can be done.

There is a mountain
I've climbed it in the rain
It has lasted through many storms
Just waiting
Waiting for someone to climb it
Many feet have passed over it's rocks
Many hands have touched it's soil
And found comfort on it's grassy bed
But I have fallen
It's soil has turned to mud in my hands
It's rocks like knives under my feet
The ground cold and hard
It's grassy bed no longer welcoming
But in more ways than one it has saved me
Even through the harshest storms
And the sunniest days
It has stood there
Just waiting
There is a mountain

Author's Note

All of my poetry comes from the heart.

Reviews

[{A}shley {B}lack @-;-]

Great imagery in this piece truly a great poem many people will relate to this mountain that we call ourselves constantly battling to reach its peak always being a fingertip away I look forward to reading more of your work

[Wild Willow Blue]

Thank you so much!