My Climb – A poem


 

My Climb

The cold bites into my

hands as I reach for

the rocky outcrop in

my climb to the top.

The blowing wind plays with

me as it shifts from east to west

trying to fool me into shifting

my weight to the wrong position.

The sun shadows my every

move but I give it a smile and

a scowl.

I say fuck you to the elements,

I say fuck you to the gravity

that wants to pull me back

to Mother Earth.

I may be a student to this life I lead,

but you are not my master.

No one claims me.

No one drives me but

myself up this mountain

I climb.

If I ‘m going to fall,

It’s going to be because

I chose to jump.

and fly

free.

By Philip Wardlow

4 thoughts on “My Climb – A poem”

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