Reaching The Summit

Sky-climber

Long time have I
Climbed the giant path,
Wending weary way
Silent solitude setting the tone.

Finger wrecker!
Taunting my feeble grasp
With melting rock
and downward pull.

Ah, fate does not always fit the wise!
For wisdom falters as life frame stumbles

Where is the comfort of the bread giver?
Where the neck grabbing, mud covered arms
That held tight and kept me to this path?

The tone is set
and the solitude remains silent
Winding my way to the summit.