Poetry: On the Road to Glory
On we must trek, into the unknown. Past those who would hold us back; over distant mountains emerging from the blue mist.
Golden sunlight reflects in my clear eyes the path toward heaven. I stand somewhere in the middle, on that rugged climb toward eternity, having chosen the path less traveled.
Waves crash so far below, exploding in white foam, and black gulls dive, swoop, above it all.
How I wish that I, like them, wasn’t so constrained by this flesh, these bones, this weight in my mind that holds me back; how I wish that I could also fly.
Alas, I am restrained to earth, a prisoner on the road to glory.
Ahead: the endeavor of my journey, to obtain the hallowed ground of heaven.
It’s there, at the end of this bumpy muddy existence, I’ll stake my claim for worlds on end.
Words and images inspired by Dingle, Ireland, and the Cliffs of Moher.