Mountain (Relievo)
And when you climb,
Anticipate the weight
Of the journey—
Rope, pick,
Pack, piton—
Consider
The deceptiveness of glaciers,
The hut you never reach, the gorge
That takes you, without warning,
To the bosom of the earth.
Don’t ask yourself
Why you are here—
You know.
You are encumbered
Even standing still, even
If you never had begun the climb.
Wet snow, waterfall, shock
Of edelweiss—
This is your native land,
Beautiful Yeti—
The eye that stares out from the stone
Is yours—
Fear of steepness,
Wariness of ice,
Your birthright.
Feel
The pull of your calves,
Your hands’
Grasp
On each crevice,
And, arriving at the peak,
The sway of your own heart.
Let yourself be slight
And the mountain immeasurable.
The rock
Cradles your bones inside:
Foot,
Shoulder,
The raised contours of the face—
You see yourself
In relief.
©2010 by Katherine Grace Bond. Written as part of the Seattle Art Museum’s SAM Word Program, in response to Cris Brodahl‘s “Mountain” exhibit.