On This Mountain

The Climbers

They knew there would not be time
To go back down and still
They climbed. It was a common
Accord. For one moment they looked,
Each into the others eye and nodded.
That was all. No dramatic scenes
Or discussions, just one glance
And a brief movement of the head.
They were gripped by something
Bigger than themselves. They
Had seen the summit, it was within
Their reach and they would not,
Could not turn back now. Even
If to continue meant death. They
Climbed onwards each step a small
And yet significant victory. There was
No space for words each concentrated
On the methodical placing of his own feet
Across the icy slope and the steady
Moving in and out of his breathing.
On this mountain, on this day, there
Was no sound but that of small
Steps across crushed ice and snow.
Towards victory or defeat only the
Mountain knows. The secret lies
Still in its icy grave.