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MOUNTAIN OF OBSTACLES Mountains are high, and I cannot climb them; even those that rest with God. Affording views, for the Revelations, my legs too tired and trails too long... I’ve felt loves’ sting, and known some pleasures; i’ve truly been kicked, and beaten blue, crying tears of blood, while walking lonely; amongst the lies of sired love. Mountains are cold and tundra’s windy; winds so strong, most turn around! Those who don’t, wear unbearable barren scars of the battered, but innocent... Winds like his water will buffet us clean. Mountain is hope when strength is waning. Never it moves, yet, forever is changing; sloughing and sharing with any who ask. Knows no greed, nor harbors for hatred the coldest memories all conquered here! Mountain heals both the wronged, and wounded Fathers the forest, and waterway, where no error harms the innocent soul. Cures with air and waters pure. Unseen beatings’ bruises have healed- Mountain is high but I have climbed it though my pace was slow and weak, it raised me up, then led me over, unforgiven chasms and obstacles, thrown my way- Over the obstacles thrown my way... |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-11-06 00:54:50
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
Mark,
It sounds like life is a series of mountains. Hard to climb, yes but necessary.
Battered bruised, weak, and yes wounded, but overcome.
Sometimes it take a lifetime to conquer even a small hill.
And others can do much more.
It's called growth. Learning to live even by yourself.
Mountain is hope when strength is waning.
thank God,
Dellena