by Amy Michelle Wiley
11/06/2006 / Poetry
I see a mountain looming near,
Its very shadow causes fear.
Foreboding, oh how close its base,
How quickly I must mount its face!
I strive all night with panicked cry
To reach the top with weary sigh.
I meet my challenge right on straight,
Then wait aside to meet my fate.
When I have conquered that tall peak
It's now for restful peace I seek.
Yet all I find is vale so deep
And there beyond it one more heap.
copyright 2008 Amy Michelle Wiley
Amy is a freelance writer and editor and a professional sign language interpreter. She is the director of Peculiar People--an international collaborative fiction organization. Her website is www.sparrowsflight.net
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