Philosophical poetry after Gareth's ascent of Mont Blanc in 2001
Life is a mountain
The highest mountain of all lies not in the Himalayas but in our minds
It is called Life
It is immeasurable, so high that I cannot see the summit
It is beautiful but a hard thing to climb
Unlike other mountains, once we are up we do not come back down again
Life is a fickle mountain
Sometimes it is warm, the way is clear and the terrain is friendly
Other times, it is stormy and cold, and winds attempt to rip you from the slopes
The terrain is varied and the different routes are infinite
You can choose harder, more worthwhile routes, or stumble upon them by chance
From where I crouch on the precarious aręte of Life I can no longer see where I should go
There are so many choices, the route is hidden, shrouded in mist
I am dizzy, a mistake now would be fatal
I am scared, but you cannot down climb Life, you have to push on upwards
I want to rest but that too is folly
I like to look down even though I shouldn’t
The climb of Life is about focusing on what is ahead and not dwelling on past accomplishments
The foothills were fun, walking, running, scrambling on easy ground
Now there are other things, things out of my control
Even though I attempt to climb with the determination of before, there are stone falls and avalanches
I often meet other climbers, some weak, some strong
Some climb with me longer than others, some climb past me, some I overtake
All climb in different styles and on slightly different routes with different gear
It always seems that everyone else’s routes are harder than yours, but many are not
Occasionally, someone will slip and fall and some don’t get up again
It appears I am at the crux move of my route
I peer through the mist and the way ahead appears friendlier
I am sure I can glimpse patches of blue through the great grey curtain above
I cannot do the move though and I realise that I have a choice to make
Risk it all by struggling up this rewarding climb or find another way
Will the other way necessarily be easier though?
Will it take longer?
Will I get lost trying to find it?
Maybe I should find help
Whatever happens on this mountain, there is no going back now
"The statues of Savannah's Monument Square are silent. The statue of the solemn girl in Bonaventure Cemetery—made famous in John Berendt's blockbuster book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil—can't speak. Only Savannah's literary monuments can g
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