mountain

A Poem by Marshall

we climbed sideways up the steep mountain
fighting chill winds and caressing our goose pimples
as we reached the summit
where the views may have been like what jesus
saw on the mount
with the devil in attendance.

I will give you all this land
if your worship me, he said.

on a hungry belly things happen,
like skyscrapers full of food
and dirty dancing girls on tables
beckoning you to sin.
tomorrow has no promises
and thirst is a sip away in a stream
way down below.

as we sat at the tip we
looked down and felt how small
we were against this mountain,yet
balancing on a slope as fragile
as yesterdays dream of plenty
we fell silent. miniscule.

the journey down raked up strange philosophies
of god and man and whoever created this
world from a pinpoint as dense as the emptiness
of our understanding of creation.

Once down we washed those questions
with pints of beer
and loud music and went home
satisfied we had, had a good day
climbing mountains and majesty.

my best friend never forget that day
when ten years later he said:
we were smaller then...
It must have worried him for a whole decade
that he had a question with no useful answers.

Author Notes

This is a real story. My friend joined a monastery just to find out how he saw himself in Gods creation. Even after a lifetime of learning, it bothered him that in the big scheme of things he was just a dot. Yet, he felt getting closer to the truth, was more satisfying than climbing any other mountain, once gain.
All it took was trip up a hillside.

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