My Climb
The cold bites into my
hands as I reach for
the rocky outcrop in
my climb to the top.
The blowing wind plays with
me as it shifts from east to west
trying to fool me into shifting
my weight to the wrong position.
The sun shadows my every
move but I give it a smile and
a scowl.
I say fuck you to the elements,
I say fuck you to the gravity
that wants to pull me back
to Mother Earth.
I may be a student to this life I lead,
but you are not my master.
No one claims me.
No one drives me but
myself up this mountain
I climb.
If I ‘m going to fall,
It’s going to be because
I chose to jump.
and fly
free.
By Philip Wardlow