May be it’s to answer a call or blind fate in finding something
You decide to hike the Appalachian Trail.
The trail is kind to the brave and humble
The pain and sweat and determination
Stay with every step in solidarity with others.
To reach the summit the climb becomes steeper
You have to grab handholds firmly
And pull yourself up with steady upper body strength
In the thin air your heart has to persevere
Your legs gather the steps almost like forever
You do not lose sight of your stamina and purpose
Till a shout of triumphal gratitude.
You are in your nineties now
Seldom mention the deep meaning of your accomplishment
You often smile when someone talks about hiking or a climb
You walk only two to three miles a day.
Questions when I was a freshman
One has to have affection for those who do sweat producing work
They grind their way
The results, decent and laudable
Worth of respect and smile
And who can say, they will not chase goats for a game or
not write a guide for the perplexed.
Can you be loyal and articulate to an attachment you revere?
My heart is as peaceful as the snow falling on top of the trees.
I will not need a hammer
to make a yogurt
I may need a loom
to weave a tapestry
To find lost civilizations
I have to dig hard and deep
The ordinariness of routines,
struggle and perseverance
The devoted hours of monks:
prayers, sleep, work
I will have to master my hands
may not need a trowel or shovel
to work my way through
to find a needle, diamond, or poem
hidden inside a haystack.
watching the finishers:
what does it take
to complete a 50-mile run?
will power or willingness
dominance or acceptance
brilliance or humility
one step at a time.
Not a large crowd.