We knew before we even got started that if we were going to get to the top of the mountain there would be things to endure; valleys of hyenas and perhaps even the valley of the shadow of death itself.
There are other destinations we could have trekked to, ones closer to home and with more creature comforts; ridicule was expected, aliens in a foreign place since youth we refused to adapt, adjust or perish. If you get there, if you make it to the top of the world, you’re a king or queen and you’re lonely, while you’re attempting to get there you’re a prince or a princess or both and you’re lonely too.
The path is narrow and crooked as are the few spectators. Quiet as it can be, if you were going to take a trip with the hope of finding a comrade this is the path you would take. If you’re exhausted but can’t sit still, this is the path you take. If you’re willing to risk it all rather than endure the endless absurdity of instant gratification, this is the path you take. For every fallen soldier a flower has been planted and though the walkway is rather limited, the beauty is endless with our goal ever before us.
Once we get to the top our view will be obscured by the clouds and so before this final push let’s sit here side by side and appreciate the wonder and terror of it all.