Thread: Poem Contest entry

beyond the bounds

You have never known what lies beyond the bounds
What goes on past all understanding
And surpasses all.

You see, dream, and see that It stands above, the peak-
Reaching haphazardly into the sky
the infinite blueness of which
stretches far far far on past all vision
Transcending reason and all limits
Until it shatters the clouds and the sphere of human dominance
Into irreparable fragments.

So birds may wing
And the most elusive and purest of winds
Gust and curl about the roughened edges up high
In tendrils of wispy ethereality
Flows into the lungs
Which burn from altitude and exertion,
Exhaustion threatens to fling you straight off the mountain.

A blatant, cheeky challenge,
That mocks the potential, rips apart the will
And throws all time, all determination
Veering off course, and you-
you poor foolish soul who dares to defy
The beautiful ferocity of the unknown heights,
you can choose to forsake the summit…

…or relentlessly climb upwards,
clinging to slippery rocks, jagged rocks, and sharp rocks
that draw blood and leaves it in your wake.
Crimson bearing silent witness to your inexperience and/or stupidity
Why on earth didn’t you bring gloves?
But bloody crimson too are the pretty little flowers
Which line your treacherous path.

It is death’s insolent grin
Ridiculously knowing and spiteful
which you cannot help but catch a nervous glimpse of,
which lies below in imminent wait
For just one singular moment:
A foot to slip, for you to grab
For a handhold that simply isn’t there.

Despite all, the clouds hover,
and you drink the sweet air in thirsty gulps
and the sun is almost within reach, beating down from above
scorching the resilience of the spirit
so that it dries up in a hollow shadow of what it used to be.
But still, Lady Nature cannot make itself a parody of your bravado
Your pride will never forgive it.

Already what lies beyond can be seen,
in a tempting, tiny sliver of what is yet to come.
Sometimes you are forced to deviate from the straightest route
by storm clouds; losing sight of the pinnacle
And for a second, when all seems lost
you forget that it was your idea in the first place.
You cling desperately on to nothing more than an image.

And then, you behold the light.
The zenith is reached, and you stand,
victorious in conquering where the heavens and earth mingle into one whole
Eternity is in your grasp, cupped in your palms
And you can touch the sky
There being no division between what is reality and dream
For now both are one and the same.

The dawn is brilliant, coming up to celebrate your pain and victory-
But it has only a chill warmth.
You stand triumphant, isolated from the mere mortals struggling on below;
The surrounding mountains echo your name,
but only yours alone.
The barren Winter has already settled in
And time is frozen, with only you changing.

You are cradled in the cocoon of the high altitude
And the entirety of where you came from lies submissively below
All spread out, and it is only by now you think that it
Rolling on for miles and miles in every single direction
Has always been as worthy a target as the sky.
It was only that the sun’s glare
had blinded your vision.

At the very end,
you would rather hold the pretty little red flowers
Than the whole world in your hands.
Then you look down, from the sky and the sun and what
All has turned out to be only an illusion
To your comfort and dismay,
you only see a steep, sheer, craggy precipice
Leading back down again.

And then you jump.