#litcember

It's scary. The peak's not in sight. But neither is the end of you. Take a breath And Rise.

Arrived on chilled clouds, But it knew where to meet me. I was young and was waiting. We raised the lights before this morning, Sleeping in the morn. But not this youthful child, Stairs were an option. Pine carried me to gifts this morning, My mom and dad were. Present in present, hand in hand, The memory won't melt. I want to go back to this morning: Christmas warmth in those pair of hands. The gift that goes unspoken, The only gift I want.

Without more than a shift of tide They pass without a glance. The moment two were one, Split No regards, no hope of return.

There are hills to cross! Fields to travel! Trees to amble! But that can wait for tomorrow. Rolling blue waters Spray life to the face. The sea births her treasure, But that can wait for tomorrow. Valleys echo And break into mountains. The peak is in sight, But that can wait for tomorrow. The arctic whistle And volcanic roar. Fire and Ice compel bravery, But that can wait for tomorrow. Look heavenward And witness the tapestry of stars Planets and galaxies to discover, But that can wait for tomorrow. Rise up in the evening And open the door To the emptiness sown As you wait for tomorrow.

At night my heart shatters For lack of flight. In laughter with friends I pretend, Only for heaven To throw forth her beacon: Tomorrow's another day.

Few live off their passions. There's naught in the dark But a whisper to you: Demons are real. You fight them alone.

Trails stretch every way... The question is where to go? Often we're stuck on the track We're born upon. The paths others take Bores envy in our souls. It's not uncommon To hate the winding way. No end in sight, no conclusion ahead, But I'll tell you this: You are stronger since you've started, And I'm glad our roads have crossed.

Here's something for nothing... But what would that be? Good question. You're right. It's easier to say. What would something made Of nothing look like? Structured lines For non-existent words? Wrangled phrases put off to Zero? Even Zero is a number, So is that what it means? Sounds a bit preposterous Like symphonies in silence, A fire sale in winter or Grasping a concept. Would a mute be at a loss for words? Who would say if he is? A paraplegic stomped underfoot? The blind man said, "I see." My apologies. The answer is hidden. My tangent failed me. A poem about nothing Wouldn't not be amazing.