“I’m starting now,”
announced to herself
more than to others,
she escapes upward
into a free climb
of verticality.

The motions of her ascent
are Tai Chi against the sheerness,
as she surrounds herself
with presence in the moment.
See the line…see two moves.
See the line…see two moves.

Bones…more than muscle…
elevate her body higher
equilibrium and balance
of chalk-caked fingers
in narrow fissures
and brief toe thrusts
against stone sills.

Steady rising… minutes blend
time-stilled into hours…
where granite…mottled gray,
faint smell of concrete-after-rain,
crystal flecked, sun warmed,
has become her ally.

Then letdown at the summit
for joy is in ascension
and not in the acceptance of
“It’s ended now.”

Bonnie Marshall

4 thoughts on “Ascension

  1. Am impressed by d vast range of themes that u pen ur poetry… every poem has a life of its own and its own story to share… 🙂

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