there is sadness in the clouds that day,
a vague flicker of doubt that won't go away.
clouds spill from the jagged black peaks
while the swift, whistling wind of fear shrieks.
the clouds darken, tempestuous swirls of ebony rumble.
my shoes start to slip, my mind is a jumble
of worries, fear, panic, despair.
behind the clouds, is anything there?
are there em'rald meadows beside a winding river?
or just vast empty space that goes on forever?
"the fog'll clear up soon," says my dad, "just a guess."
if the clouds go away will I still be a mess?
Soon enough the clouds do melt away.
they seep through the cracks, but we choose to stay.
atop the peak we've got quite a view:
golden lilies, sparkling with dew, frame lush, perfect mountains;
the world looks brand new.
stark, crisp blue sky borders green ridges
with trees of all colors dressed in grand riches.
my family beside me, we take in the moment.
it's quiet up there, but our awe is unspoken.
"we should prob'ly keep walking," says one of the group,
"since the clouds came, we've gone in a loop."
the clouds will come back, it'll be hard to go on
we just have to chase after the light of the dawn.
the clouds will come back, that much I can say
walking sure won't be easy, but we try anyway.
