We start life
At the base camp
In believing
Anything
Is possible.
Never realizing
How cruel
And unforgiving
Our ascent
Can be.
How fragile
Our foot
And handholds are.
One misstep
Or lost of grip
Can send us
Tumbling downwards.
Which
Some people
Never recover.
As their grave sites
Litter
The valley below.
Others
Like adrenaline junkies
Are pushed
To take
Even greater risks
For that rush.
Burning out
When their oxygen
Is exhausted.
For those lucky ones
Who pace themselves
In reaching
Their personal summit.
Thus
Are graced
With Nirvana's entrance
And inner peace.
Which
Has eluded
Too many people.
Therisa © 2016
Author's note: Tomorrow is, the ninth anniversary of the posting of my first poem, on social media (MySpace). Have to admit, every time, I look at that poem, I cringe, and want to delete it from existence. But, everyone has to start somewhere. In the following nine years, I have experience many highs and lows, in my poetic outpouring, depending upon my battle with mental illness.
Have joking told, the group moderator of my Male to Female support group, she's to blame, for this onslaught of words that I place out, in the world. For she pushed me, for several months, to take up writing, as a release valve, for the stress, I was dealing with, at that particular moment, in my life.
For all, who have read one of my poems, I thank you, and hope, I haven't chased you, away from my words.
