The Hills I Climb For You
I have learned the shape of effort,
It rises slowly, then all at once.
Every step asks who I am becoming,
Before it lets me advance.
The wind does not flatter devotion,
It strips excuses bare.
What survives the climb proves itself,
In the thin, honest air.
I stumble where the ground remembers rain,
And stand where the view forgives.
Each ache becomes a quiet promise,
That this is how belief lives.
You never asked for proof of love,
Yet I measure it in ascent.
In every pause where quitting waits,
And finds me still intent.
When I reach the height that scares me most,
I turn, not down, but through.
These hills know my name by now,
They know I climb for you.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶2 days ago in Petlife
Comments (2)
Beautiful as always, dear Marie. I especially liked these lines: When I reach the height that scares me most, I turn, not down, but through.
this was great made me think of the kate bush song.