May 2, 2013
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Climbing the mountain,
I was not expecting what I’d see.
My heads were shaking.
I looked what lay ahead of me.
Canyons and craters.
Moving through the chasms,
Dust was blowing.
Stinging my eyes,
And burning my skin.
The red dust stained my clothes.
I finally reached the top.
I was a giant,
Staring at the miniature trees, and people.
The decent was more beautiful than the ascent.
Rocks shimmered in the golden light.
Their old age was visible,
Due to the deep crevices.
My feet kicked up the crimson dirt,
Staining my tennis shoes.
Before I knew it,
Trees towered over me again.
I could hear the rattling of rattle snakes in the grass.
The hissing of the wind.
I had finally reached the bottom.

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