It takes a certain calibre to climb to the top
A hard metal that won’t stop until it meets its target
And once you’re there you’re high in the clouds at the mountains peak
But it’s time to go home then and that goal isn’t as intense but a rewarding yearning for the familiar
The stillness of pine trees
Sunlight suspended on the gravel path
Bluebells silently ringing in purples
The slow fragrance of the forest walking beside me on my way home
