Poetry

Poem: After the Climb

I push a cart with rusty wheels
uphill
in the hot, summer heat.

When I get to the top.
I have another mountain,
another long, arduous climb.

Some days, I’d rather lay on my back
and contemplate the sky,
read the stars in the galaxy
for a sign
that my struggle
is part of a cosmic plan

and that I’m not
just an outcast,
committing a victimless crime.

©️mft

photo taken in La Jolla by Mark Tulin

Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

21 comments on “Poem: After the Climb

  1. You worded the journey of life superbly here. Yes, we climb and climb, without reaching the peak, I suppose we are climbing our way towards the stars

  2. Oh wow, I especially love the line about being an outcast committing a victimless crime. I think this poem makes us all wonder about our own lives and what exactly we’re all climbing towards.

    • It kind of goes back to what we were talking about. We choose a career and we start making the climb and then wonder if it’s really what we want to do in our life or if its really worth the effort. Thank you, Jade for your thought-provoking comments. 👌🏼

  3. Beautifully penned down ✨👌

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