Mountains
The metronome pace,
Methodic mountain ascending grace.
Placing each foot with care and attention,
In a geological expanse that defies comprehension.
Entombed in the cloud,
The thump of your heart the only noise in this meteorological shroud.
Ascending from the world and all of its clutter,
Free from the phone and the constant background mutter.
The mountains have a very special place in my heart.
The views are spectacular, but they must be earnt, they are a rich reward for hard labour. For the hours in the pouring rain, for the never ending ascent, the miserable meal, cowering behind a low wall in a howling gale. Savoured in the relief of a warm bed, hot aches and flushed cheeks. They are the reward for honest hard labour!