The Beckoning Silence (for Joe Simpson)
The beckoning silence:
So real, like steel,
So full, so still.
Ever on and up I go,
Step by step, toe by toe.
Boots crunch stone along the trail,
Breath pumps blood from head to tail.
Water gurgles down the gorge,
Puff clouds billow, spirit soars.
Two more ridges, one more ledge,
And there I stand on mountain’s edge.
Gazing down the world below,
to Poetry main menu
Big Black Peak