I'll fly away

there’s a brook babbling to my left.
I take another step.
the gradual incline has set my calves on fire.
another step

I see sheer cliffs and towering pines.
my tristful soul is floating among them
whispering with the wind.
another step

the fire spreads
burning the lining of my stomach.
the sun is setting on the peaks to the west.
there are other people climbing those sierras too.

I lie down to rest,
but the fire does not subside;
it spreads, the flames grazing my jawbone.
all I want is to rest.

“won’t you take me home?” I plead, searching the heavens above.
I close my eyes, searching for peace.
the fire is consuming my soul;
the same soul floating above the pines.

bright beams of ivory and lemon scratch at my eyelids.
the sun is beckoning me to wake up.
I am not home.
I am still on the mountain.

I can’t see the peak of my Everest.
I wonder if I can fly home from there.
I want to fly home.
the colors from the rising sun warm my face.

the fire isn’t burning as strong now.
I hear a bird jubilantly crooning overhead,
and I take another step upward.
the fire stoked with every step.

I enjoy the landscape and the beauty of the climb,
although this mountain is not my home.
each day my soul is kissed by scorching flames
each day I climb until I can’t do it anymore.

I am shackled to this mountain
there are cold iron shackles on my ankles
someday I will find a key,
and I will fly home.

-- stanley alvey