The AscentA Poem by Marlon Ferguson Man's arrogant desire to overcome impossible odds and survive leads to tragic consequences. The massive ramparts calmly lay Before us on that fateful day, While we previewed our chosen way-- A daring first ascent! That braggart height that soared alone Beguiled us with its sweet unknown-- Invaded our most inner zone With it's most sacred scent.
On deeming our adventure sound, We soon lit out for higher ground. Our confidences knew no bound Yes, Glory rode the reins. Experience assumed the lead And we reached base-camp in good speed-- Fulfilling our initial need Although the day seemed strange.
Then evening donned her bleak disguise And the cold, white carpet crystallized The sparkling twilight hypnotized And reveled in its sin. At length, the baneful breezes blew A warning to the world we knew Like shadows in the milky stew We set up camp, and then... The winds, winds, winds... Like a banshee on the moor Licked the night with cruel caresses Ever haunting...evermore. Yes, the winds, winds, winds... With it's howling, constant cries Held advice for all who listened-- Death's demonic head shall rise.
The morning's vivid alpenglow, {A robe of rose and golden snow} Enveloped us from top to toe In ambient, liquid light. The flaming yellow stone reflexed The dripping rays of sun direct Into our eyes. With due respect We drank that awesome sight.
Renewed by God's consoling hand, We hastened camp and climbed again-- A disciplined and eager band Determined to survive. But light to night too quickly turned How for its soothing warmth we yearned-- How deeply our desires burned To leave this land alive. Again we crawled in crisp cocoons Like mummies in elastic tombs-- Like embryos in hostile wombs To dodge the arctic air. Embroidered on the virgin field, Our confidence began to yield It's welcome and familiar shield As if it didn't care
And the winds, winds, winds... Like a banshee on the moor Licked the night with cruel caresses Ever haunting...evermore
The fear our once intrepid eyes So cleverly 'till now disguised Sprang forth in desperate surprise And on our spirits grated. To quench a vain, primeval thirst, We staked our lives to conquer first This ragged range though hearts should burst Before our souls were sated
And the winds, winds, winds... With it's howling, constant cries Held advice for all who listened-- Death's demonic head would rise Awakening in brittle shrouds-- Consumed by harsh, foreboding clouds, We cursed the brewing skies aloud Yet blindly ventured on. We inched along a pressure ridge Where Nature forged a fragile bridge-- Where Death lay waiting at the edge Our souls to pounce upon.
All evidence and every trace The blizzard battled to erase No, never would it rest its case-- O demon course satanic! To perish with such brutal quickness Filled us with a fatal sickness-- Chilled our blood to gooey thickness Our circumstance grew frantic.
Like dominoes in turn we fell Into Death's empty, wicked well All victims of this frozen hell Whose vile, damned stench oppressed us. On numbing knees we shrieked, ‘Alas!’ The light of Life was fading fast Our lives before our eyes did pass And God's own hand caressed us And the winds, winds, winds... Like a banshee on the moor Licked the night with cruel caresses Ever haunting...evermore
Yes, the winds, winds, winds... With it's howling, constant cries Held advice for all who listened-- Death's demonic head did rise © 2022 Marlon Ferguson |
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1 Review Added on October 29, 2022 Last Updated on October 29, 2022 Tags: Mountaneering, survival, alpine, wilderness, fate Author
Marlon FergusonAsheville, NCAboutI enjoy painting, writing, and recording music. I have self-published two novels: "Second Wind" (coming of age drama) and "Amalgam" (horror/suspense) and a book of poetry: "Beyond the Light". more..Writing
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