To cross the bridges

at the awaited hour,

From landlocked refuge

through expansive waters,

To the camp at the base

where you’re torching fires.

To summit the mountain,

feet and hands hurriedly scramble

in storms, winds and thunder.

We’re on the path,

lit by each step.

At the peak,

the precipice falls behind,

toward the castles in the sky,

into the reality meant for you & I.