THE ZEN OF MOUNTAINS AND MOVING UP THEM

CAUTIONARY TALE VIII-SELF DETERMINATION

I can feel the grip on my wrist,

holding me strongly

while my foot searches for the next step

that will move me forward, upward to this climbs end.

My mind dare not wander to the “what if”

yet how can it not shuffle thoughts

while ascending mountains

to the lotus purpling sky?

Loose stones falling abound

I have spent so much of my living,

my strength feeling for the outcrop

that will hold my weight let me rest before I go.

I have crossed many

ranges of tectonic thoughts

that I no longer remember from where I started

or why, other than the simple:

“I must get away

from the here

I have returned to again;

forgotten and climbed back to”

The cost of my exertions

was the loss of my slavery of thinking

that one day I may fit in somewhere

I am loved and can return the care.

Now, now I know I do not need to fit anywhere

other than here, on this mountains face moving

upward toward what I have long hoped

to be the final end of my last climb.

I feel the grip on my wrist; have felt it for decades.

Scaling unknown inflexible places can crush a man’s soul.

While I climb, sweat and yes, even occasionally fear

the fallacy that I will never fail or fall.

All I am climbing toward now this time

is to kiss the face at the end of that arm.

Until then I will have my own thoughts as I’ve been taught

to fit my own steps wherever I am to be on this rocky face.

I accept that responsibility

for upward motion is shared;

but if I do fall, the failure is mine alone

for the gravity of my cares misplaced.

© M Durfee

6/3/13