I know no other way to reach the heavens

[shapeofthings]

This path, slow trod, unknown
of terminus, winds through fine
worn desert dust and far icy
crowns of Andes...

Terraced slopes for stepping
up-and-down-and-sideways:
I fall, get up, keep going,
climbing, breathing...

Worn thin by many passing
feet of others going seeking,
bearing in a pilgrim heart the
brilliant ache of living...

(joy and sorrow seep from same
deep wells plumbed firmly
in the psyche) and I will
always go on walking.

P.S. Desert prettiness at TheShapeOfThingsToCome - go look!