Time Is At Hand

There was never a choice in the matter.
I began, what I knew was to be, an arduous climb with a simple step forward.
The more I climbed the more tired and sore my legs became. Prickly spines tore at my arms, my sides, encouraging me to return from whence I‘d come. When I thought I could climb no more, I looked up only to see that I wasn’t near as close to the top as I would have liked to have been, but I climbed on. My footing gave way, but I managed. And when I thought I couldn’t possibly take another step, I girded myself and continued, each step forward a gritty victory. I climbed, still. A few steps later, I fell. Stood back up, and continued, step ....by step.
By and by I reached the mesa where I gathered ragged breath, taking in the grand vista surrounding me ...but knowing deep inside my journey was far from over.
I walked amongst the hawks, as well as the buzzards. I trod the lonely ground, stopping time and again to admire the most secret of treasures; God’s beauty all around if only you chance to look; waters rippled jade gold, caressed by soft fingers of a breeze, bark of a limb festooned with cemetery moss and sea foam mosaic. Nourished, I walked on. Crows flew overhead and laughed about nothing, chastising me much to their amusement. I saw dead animals. I saw red berries. I saw trees bent with age and wisdom. I walked along paths augured long before my time and walked into parts unknown, also. As the sun lowered under the edge of the world I continued on. I walked in the muck and among the brush, around the dung and through the clover.
And when I thought my journey had ended, bathed in apricot, salmon, and amethyst, I came upon another hill which beckoned.
A star’s fiery birth. A cry from a newborn. ...New day rising.