reflecting on my climb

i climb higher

and higher

until i reach the top

full of lush and green

at the end

nothing but the tip

the branch is dried

and i fear!

filled with anxiety

and more uncertainty:

will it break?

will i survive the fall?

my wits falter

though i know a step down

i must go

to avoid the breaking point

it’s my making

and it’s my greed

that moved me there

and i chose

not the cold

nor a longer winter

smaller

and smaller branch

a diminishing place

a deserted village

climbing against the trend

an irrevocable drift

of an urban world

i now progress

into a wilderness

walking in wilderness is good

but living there

that i dread

i calm my thoughts

and tell my soul

you could always come below

but if it breaks

before the move i make

an outcome

i hate to see

hence

i close my eyes

henry victor      20.03.2007

finding mine

spring, i know, certainly follows winter

and you, with your inscrutable will, demand
absolute submission from me, and to me
you promise mercy, grace, and prosperity

as you outpoured the same to Abraham

Job and Jesus, not merely mythical figurines
and pieces of playful poetic ploy, inspiring
a waiting for your offerings with patience

while on my part, as a traveler of a pathless

path i have knocked every alien door
with the hope of finding my chair to rest
my feet continuing to trek your subtle trail

henry victor     05.06.2002