bright open air

A mountain stands
so tall and proud,
screams of misery
and groundlings have no hope of conquering it.
Hidden rifts, claw-like peaks, and steep ridges
prove nothing to the contrary.
I sit and wallow deep
deep
deep within its belly.
I do not see the rifts, the peaks, the ridges,
but I know they are there,
their walls trap me into
this damp cave reeking of dark despair.

Don’t follow the example of the
adventurers, striving heroes, hopeful do-gooders
who march past the entrance to the cave,
kicking up dust,
who stand on the peaks,
to sand away the rough edges,
to tunnel through the hard earth,
to smooth the fierce rock,
to unearth me.
Chips fly off,
nick sweating, laboring, dusty skin,
turn to dust.
Dusty adventurers, striving heroes, hopeful do-gooders
surround themselves with dust
and I remain in damp darkness.

Please join me in this
damp reeking cave of despair.
Don’t sand, tunnel, smooth, or unearth.
Leave the dust and
just sit with me
and weep with me
and wait with me.
Wait with me until until until
I find a way
we find a way
to find my strength
and break the damp dark cave wall, and those
faking, lying, sadistic
rifts, peaks, ridges.
To release the rocks with
Words,
Prayers,
Tears,
Anger,
Strength,
Hope,
Love,
and turn them to rubble
that falls away and rolls away
until we are standing.

We are standing in the light
and it is so bright
too bright
just-right bright
and we are standing together in the bright open air

and we laugh.