Climbing Mountains (New poem by Polly Castor)

Climbing Mountains

Mountains are grand ideas.
Light scales them effortlessly
routinely reaching their tops
before anything else.
I am not a lumbering mass
clambering up huge elevations,
but instead, a reflection of Spirit.
who disports herself with alacrity,
verve, and endless energy.
Spirit does not labor
to ascend a high elevation,
nor does it even notice
a change in atmosphere.
Spirit, like light, is already there,
weightless, and not hauling,
joyous, not breathless and slogging,
vital, potent, vigorous,
not scrambling, nor spent.
Spiritual, I scamper among those
grand ideas without difficulty,
undaunted by and communing with
their strength and beauty easily,
for we are made of the same
non-material stuff,
amazingly awesome,
marvelously magnificent.
Oh the view!
Oh the freedom
and the fun!

by Polly Castor
9/24/26