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Arthur's Seat, the Easy Way |
It came in a dream, the sense of cold sunshine
The very blink of sweat on my fingers
I had done it before, trained for a year
Tore up the little mountain, the volcanic plug
Then I woke, and the dream woke with me
To find myself on my bonny, wee mountain again
To climb where I had climbed before the troubles
Before the cancer, before the titanium rods, the steel
I peeled myself from the sheets and began to train
I threw myself into the very muscle of desire
I wanted this with all I had, lumping up streets
And on to the park day-by-day, until I could
Fling myself up the dam bank and up to the path
Around the lake, where it was furiously hot
I didn’t care, just flung myself through space
Clumsy as a kangaroo sewn to a chicken
Months later, Scotland nodded to me and I came—
I felt storied bravery, I prepared to climb up the easy side
The fervid beast of longing, I growled, I swore I would eat
That mountain, that I would win that mountain at 70
For mine was the battle of life over surrender
Mine was the fight of the century, I was not
Going home in limp failure, Mine was to crawl
To the top, to crow from the peak, taking it
There were those moments along the grassy side
When I panted how hard it was, how I didn’t—
Just didn’t know if I could go on, all the while
Shooting to the top, coming down blind with joy
The wet determination, the shoulders pushing
The face contorted, the absolutely grave fight
Inspiring those who followed, strangers, friends
Who stood aside to cry, “Braw victorie, Brave Lassie, braw!”
copyright 2018
Viola
Weinberg |
