The Mountains

The mountains never judge us.

I am comforted by the objectivity of the danger awaiting

and to know that whatever punishment meted out

is impersonal.

Today novice and experts are equal,

equally fallible in the face of impassive beauty.

The lake reflects a troubled sky.

The cold sting-blast of troughing waters

sharpen the senses,

as I pick my wary way along a path littered with sheep droppings

and the fossilised footfalls, perhaps of my ancestors.

At peak dead calm

and an awareness of peace.

The struggle for contentment is worth this bliss.

Happy today to sleep only in a bed of snow

my childish laughter rebounds around the echoing plateau.

Descending, vast vistas open

as far as the eye can see,

to the unforgiving sea.

Keep us safe on our climbs

and let judgement not weigh too heavy upon us:

so as better to weather the storms when we return;

so we can understand the reasons for our return.

The mountains do not judge us

and will not judge our children.