Reaching 


Dance with the clouds.

Walking this path more often than not gasping for breath, it feels possible. 

If I just make it that final mile, those last few steps for ascension, impossible seems inevitable.

The sun has moved, it’s no longer rising.

My legs have tremors pulsing from thigh to toe.

What if this is it?

I am only meant to witness, not participate.

Would it bring fulfillment enough?