Day 13.
She reached the summit,
Her breath escaping
From her lips
In a puff of smoke,
The last part of
The person she was.
A person she had began to leave
Four days ago
On the path up this mountain.
The person who
Didn’t want to go
A step farther,
Who gave excuses
Why she should not on.
Excuses such as
Her body could not endure
This any more.
The air is too thin.
The pack is too heavy.
The incline is to steep.
The temperature is too low.
The person tried
To rationalize with her.
“So what if you never
Reach the summit.
You won’t be the first
Not to make it,”
The person would say.
The guide sat quietly
At the camp, pretending not to
Notice the internal battle
Of the most unusual
Of his clients. And
He simply nodded
The next day when
She said that she will continue.
It was in that moment
That the person began to leave,
Through the first puff of breath
She exhaled.
She pushed harder
That she ever pushed
Her body,
Her mind,
Her spirit.
Even when they demanded,
They begged
For her to stop,
She pushed on.
On Day 13,
She took the last steps
To the summit.
She took a deep breath
From her oxygen tank
And removed the mask.
She slowly turned around
Absorbing the view,
Releasing the breath.
She knelt down and
The guide stepped away,
Giving her privacy.
On bended knees,
She spoke to God,
Not the God of Jesus,
Not the God of Mohammed,
Not the Hindu Gods,
Not the Voodoo Gods,
She spoke to her God.
The God that brought her here.
The God that pushed her
Into her greatness.
The God that demands
Nothing but her best
And for her to live fully.
The God that is more real
Than any God created by man.
The God that simply was and is
Around us.
Within us,
In the deepest ocean,
On the highest mountain,
Everywhere.
To this God,
She gave thanks.
On the way down,
She thought the person
Would return,
But she never did.
She now resides
On this mountain.
The person she became
On this mountain
Is worth ten times
That person, and
She willingly sacrificed
That person to the mountain.
On this mountain,
She became…
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