The eve is cold and still
hardly mist upon the air.
Dark descends,
shrouding, overtaking light.
No birds, no cars, no wind,
no tinkling fall of snow,
only here and there
the faintest hints of warmth.
On and on we trudge,
no words exchanged between us,
air crisp upon our faces,
sting upon our ears,
yet neither of us shivers,
hot blood within us flows.
Out on the edge we wander,
no harsh necessity compels,
no fear, no drought of luck,
no scheme to get the better of.
Our curt wish? To press our limits,
to touch and breathe and gaze upon
all wonder that enthralls.
Long on, the dim light fades,
dark becomes complete.
Mood suggests an ebb
and so crunching footsteps,
reluctant to retreat,
make the turn and come about.
We have not failed,
nor reached a wall.
We've merely climbed our "hill",
and now we'll trudge back down.
Ever deeper into night,
colder, farther, longer, hotter,
each daily journey takes us,
pressing ever nearer
the outer reach of our potential,
mapping, learning, questioning,
challenging all the time
the ever-changing wonder
of all that lies in view.
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Thursday, February 25th, 2010
Bridgman
MI
USA
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