Monument - Jennifer A Pinder

The tempest rages, fierce and loud,

The shifting seasons come and go,

Yet rooted deep beneath the cloud,

The granite giant does not bow.

A silent monument to grace,

Unmoved by all the winds that blow,

It holds its ancient, steady place,

And watches chaos pass below.

From heavy clay and crowded valley,

Its shoulders rise to pierce the night,

A bridge where earth and heaven rally,

To touch the cold, celestial light.

It reaches for a truth sublime,

Beyond the fog where shadows creep,

A monument to timeless time,

Awake while all the lowlands sleep.

The path is forged in grit and stone.

A gruelling test of breath and bone,

Where every upward step is won

In solitude, and stark, alone.

But at the crest, the shadows clear,

The heavy air gives way to sky,

The valleys fade, and what was fear

Becomes a calm, collective eye.

And standing where the ridge extends,

The climber feels the sudden scale;

A fleeting breath that starts and ends

Beside a giant wrapped in shale.

For long before our names were cast,

And long after our days are through,

The peak remains, immense and vast,

To prove what is, and what is true.