A beautiful journey

 Slipping one sock off, than the next, he rolled them up tightly before slipping them into his boots. The right and left socks went into the corresponding shoe like they always did when he came to an obstacle of water like this. A small stream that lay maybe 15 feet across and only eight inches deep was blocking his path up the mound of earth covered in hues ranging from one end of the spectrum of color to the other. This was direct run off from the snow that melted away from these peaks less than a month before so he knew that he would want to hurry through the water. Closing his eyes he shoved his left foot into the water with a wince from the intense cold that surrounded his extremity. Following with his right immediately after he moved as fast as possible through the frigid water. Each step was like walking across razor blades as the jagged rocks unveiled themselves to the bottoms of his feet. With a clench of his teeth he bore the pain very easily after realizing that only a few steps within this water had numbed his feet completely. Laughing like a madman he fell softly into a pile of thick foliage at the edge of a small island that lay in the center of the stream. The water had reached almost up to his knees at one point, freezing everything on its way.
     The suns rays provided a healing touch as they beamed down from the empty blues skies above. Regaining the use of his legs again he marveled at the hill of sand he had skated down to get to the stream. Turning back toward this masterpiece he was going to conquer he repeated the steps of crossing to pass through the second portion of the stream. Allowing the suns rays to dry him yet again he watched the water pass by him intensely. Thoughts of the life cycle of this stream flowed across his mind. Taking a journey away from him the water would wind and turn through valleys and hills unblemished by the hands of man. What wonders would it see in the dark crevices of  the earth as it journeyed in and out of her bosom toward its ultimate destination. Would it even have an ultimate destination? Although this stream continually moved the water forward in its life cycle, it never actually moved itself. The level may rise and fall, this is true. However, the fact remains that it continually maintains a cycle of motion in the individual sense, but as a whole it remains a constant within its environment. This cyclical movement of existence is a vital component of the consistent change necessary to stem the stagnation and corruption of the ecosystem. Following the patterns of birth from the snow, life from the bounty of its environment, decay from starvation, and the death provided by the changing of the seasons would bring the cycle to a close in eager anticipation for the time of the next.
    Feeling the last droplets of water beginning to evaporate from the follicles on his legs he laced up and turned to face his opponent. Smirking coyly she looks down from her perch in the sky. Across a masterpiece painted on a canvas of immaculate design her gaze fell onto him heavily. Leaving the security of the bank of the stream he plunged into the waist high grass concealing the severity of the slope before him. Within only a few steps the incline presented itself mockingly from beneath his feet. Stopping for a moment to catch his composure, and some oxygen, he looked back at the stream one last time. Trudging firmly against the ground he marched up the slope to the top of the first incline. A buffoon stumbling through the Louvre, unaware of the extraordinary craftsmanship that the natural world has provided through tireless dedication to the progression of the mural, he thinks only of reaching the the top so that he can look down at the defeated landscape below. Giving way from him the ground disappears in a subtle fashion that does not coincide with coincidence.
  Irritated slightly by the misstep he simply jumped to his feet and pushed on. Within a few a steps the trees left his sides while the ground plateaued to a large area of flat ground covered  in wild flowers and tall grass that looked like it had been bleached by the sun. Increasing his pace rapidly from the easier terrain his eyes became focused on his prize, and his thoughts were consumed by maintaining his speed. Thirst struck him like an avalanche so he stopped for a moment to get a breath and some water. This meadow was much larger than he had anticipated. He had only made it to the center of the first section where he was resting on a grouping of small rocks in the midst of the tall yellow grass. Facing north he would have to head southwest from here before cutting north along the meadow until he reached the trees again as they climbed upward again. A trail of flowers marked this path almost exactly how he had seen it from the lake earlier that morning.  Walking by their side he monitored each one carefully and thoughtfully; making sure to take into consideration every aesthetic feature they held.

  A rustle pulled him sharply from his dedication to his battle. Scanning the area he realized that he was no longer walking through trees. Fear of the unknown gripped his mind with paranoia which caused his heart to stop its beat and his lungs to hold their breath. Listening intently for more noise he monitored the six and half feet tall grass that encircled his position. Silence echoed into his ears from every direction while he entertained thoughts of looming death behind each leaf, each blade, each stalk. Gulping down some water quickly he turned up the pace to a steady jog. Several minutes of tense pressure on his anxiety finally passed with the last strand of vegetation grasping at his heels.  Sitting on a rock that could not have been shaped into a better seat he marveled at the labyrinth he had just conquered. His  almost aimlessly winding path was cut distinctly into the giants of green. Not far from where he started was a large area of matted grass where an animal had been laying that was within his arm length at that point. This area has a large  distribution of moose, elk, and deer, so by the size of the area he decided that the rustle he had heard early must have been one of those. This sight was definitely good for his weary self because it eased the tension in his mind.
  Resting during an extremely long break he laid silently on the rock while the suns rays poked through the canopy above and struck him warmly as the passed by. Feeling the precursors of fatigue setting in he defiantly climbed to his feet once more. There could only be one or two more inclines before the top because he had been gone for at least four hours now.
    Changing dramatically the trees have transitioned from slender beams to thick fir trees. Ancient guardians set to barricade any attackers of her seclusion they loomed over his head menacingly. Watching him cautiously try to maneuver his way through their blockade the wind passes on his neck and a sound like laughter seems to enter his ears. Not knowing the reason, this did make him quiet perturbed. "I have not come this far to turn back now. I will conquer this mountain." Staring for some time at his adversary he spots a weakness in its defense. Dashing at the chink in their armor he is enclosed in a labyrinth of lumber. Winding into all directions as he traversed down a path that is no longer the one that  he had planned the confines of this space begin to impose their sanctions on his will. An odd feeling of compression builds with the anxiety of being followed. Exiting the tunnel a sigh of relief breaks the silence.
   Stretching from his feet the landscape moved dramatically with the last incline leading to the summit. Small plants turned into small rocks as the grassy floor speckled with wild flowers of various colors and sizes turned into a desolate floor of loose earth.
  A somber experience to see such an absence of life after being completely engulfed by it for such a long period. Here there was no singing birds or animals calling for their kin. No mountain goats playing on the rocky face of the last battle. Only a chill wind rolled silently at the ending of the trees, stirring up the earth as it went along. Running quickly down his spine a chill mimicked the pattern of the wind. A reminder of the ominously towering obstacle for the thriving metropolis that he had sojourned. The mountain grew from its roots in the earth to extend itself upward in a feeble attempt to kiss the sky. An abundance creates a foundation that has the resources necessary to elevate to the next incline. Here the denizens begin to congregate themselves closely to where their mistress has stock piled her bounty so that they may ensure their survival. The blood lines of their majesty intertwine with the cycle of the stream in a beautiful dance that moves them forward into the next section. Each one aiding the other in a symbiotic relationship of spectacular conception that culminates at the majesty of her peak. The birth at the river, the life and its journey up the slopes, and the ultimate destination resting atop her crown. The journey coming to a point of resolution.
  Traveling due south about a 1/2 mile would be an arduous task that would take him to safe climb to the summit. Adding that much time to an already extended hike was something that he was just not willing to do because of his growing fatigue and diminishing water supply. A rock slide had taken massive boulders to the bottom of this incline into a massive pile of jagged stone. The boulders dwindled into pebbles within a blink of his eye. His pace was incredibly fast for how tired he knew he was this far into his journey. Hurdling up the mountain he maintained this pace for some time until he felt a burst of wind push him forcefully to the side. Completely exposed to the elements by the solitude of his position he looked for any signs of life around him. All that could be spotted was a small juniper tree near the top of the hill and a rotting log running up the middle of an eroded path down the center of this face. The closer to the middle he was the more implausible it was that he could actually climb it so it was a difficult task to get himself to the log. Now that he was actually on the hill it was easy to see that there was only one way he could do this or he would simply have to turn back.
   With a deep breath he jumped to the log. Landing with a crunch he noticed the millions of insects, mainly ants, that made the log almost feel alive. Casually walking across the log like a tight rope walker the alarm was sounded. Ants rushed out of the wood climbing up his shoes onto his legs feverishly. Extremely large for an ant in this place they make him jump right off of the log to the earthy steps next to it. He brushed himself down as fast as he could because the size of these ants made him believe that their bite could definitely pack a punch.
  Passing by the last piece of shrubbery that he had seen since he left the bottom an overwhelming thought that he was missing something immobilized him. The dirt at his feet had definitely became more loose as he closed in on the top. What little vegetation there was had all but disappeared near the bottom. And the way that he was positioned against the mountain; he was not hiking any longer, he was clinging to the mountain.
  Awakened to his reality that he was no longer upright, but doing a bear crawl up a slope that was too steep and sandy for a sane person to attempt to overcome it. A ladder leaning against the wall he clung to her bosom like a frightened child wrapped tightly in his mothers arms.
   "I have left my sanity at the bottom" He exclaimed aloud
  Back was now down. There was no turning back at this point, but one misstep could be fatal. The desolation of this place impressed the isolation of himself upon this slab of rock. He was utterly alone. No one knew of his existence here. Looking down at the quarry below her mouth was shown to him with their menacingly sharp fangs. Waiting for him they anticipated his demise so that they could swallow a victim with his pride.
  Frantically searching to either side for a route back down to the bottom where he could safely escape, a disheartening conclusion was met; it was not possible to turn back because the soil had become so eroded at this point that the gravitational forces being exerted on him would drag him into her mount if he tried.
   The spirit of this conqueror was now faced with the inevitable moment of its defeat. Attempting to ignore this moment he tries to push forward but there is no more foot holds and nothing to help him move forward, only sand. Losing his footing his face meets the sand. Struggling to get back he repeats the process several times in a futile effort to continue on. Finally accepting his defeat he lay against the earth tightly with his forehead against the ground.
  "Help me." He whimpered
  Unsure of whom he was speaking to he repeated the statement. The solitude endured here when faced with his own mortality presented him an opportunity to observe his existence on a grander scale. The significance of his existence diminished with each passing moment as his thoughts transported him from where he was to each step within his journey and back to his camp where he had started that morning. Taking himself out of the equation he was humbled by what he was allowed to witness. Building inside so that his heart was filled, he burst into tears.
  "Help me."
 A plea repeated more than once before, but never with this reasoning. A revelation of his ignorance of the value of this destination. He wanted forgiveness.
 Caressing the back of his neck a cool breeze blows gently as it calmed his uneasy soul. From the barren sands his eye caught sight of some shrubs and vines. Astonishment gripped him completely because these had not been there before. It was as if they had grown out of his humility and acceptance of the laws of this place. Reaching deep into heart of her bosom they rooted themselves firmly so that they could carry the burden of his weight. Groaning deeply with the rigorously lurching movement of his progress the sand seemed to harden beneath his feet. Reaching the solitary tree near the top he finds himself within a stone throw away from his success. Recovering enough strength to make a go for it he clings to the mountain side like an invalid to his cane. Pride wells up inside of him as he see the gateway to his achievement. Pulling against a small vine a loose rock comes loose and tumbles against his knee hard enough to knock him to his stomach with his backpack landing heavily on his back. A small little reminder to silence the re-surging pride.
  The summit rolled gently under him when he crawled onto it on his belly. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead rapidly. Exhaustion begins to sent in after the long journey that has taxed him mentally and physically. On his hands and knees be bent down and kissed the earthly softly. Remaining there for several moments he thanked her for his freedom. Causing his thoughts to fall onto those that had brought him here.
   Sitting up a gasp is all that could be uttered through the choking in his throat. Through his tears a kingdom of ancient design was laid out for his viewing. Untamed mountains roared back him with their superiority over the valleys below. The winding waters found their ways out of the trees to the gather themselves to be joined as one in a lake that stretched out until curved behind the mountains into the horizon. For the first time since he had started birds were singing. The harmonious melody was an ecstasy for his aching ears.Listening to this choir sing he gazed at the meadows overrun by flowers that were hidden sanctuaries in a sacred place.
  Here he sat on her throne. Belittled by his arrogance he was moved to forget the acceptance of the reality that made him demean this place.
  "I feel privileged that she has allowed me to take her seat if only for a moment. It is honor to view this place through her eyes."
A first in may years; an anxious heart sits tranquil. Calmed by a swirling wind that encircled him and even seemed to pass through him. Being a man of non religious content he could not decide what he had heard that day was a voice from the figments of his imagination or something much more. The voice that struck the very core of his being was such a sweet and tender care giver that when the words were spoken it was almost unbearable to take because the comfort provided an experience of such supreme joy that every malicious inclination within his construct was utterly removed.
  "This is why you have come here. To behold the magnificence of this forgotten place. You did not come here to conquer me. I am only an idea personified into a physical obstacle to challenge your character. There are many like myself waiting for you to accept their challenge. Accept them. In succeeding and completing their tasks you will be exalted from your state of stagnation not for the benefit of your own predicament, but so that you may take the burdens of those that cannot journey here from them so that their days will be a little lighter. These will replace the burdens that you have taken into your heart, this will allow you to relieve yourself of the demons of your past. Their screeches in the night will be silenced by my sweet song that will guide you from your corrupted reverie. Follow that paths that lead you to the service of others for it is only way that you can truly conquer yourself. You have come here in your ignorance to conquer me, but I am only a stepping stone to the recovery of your omnipotence. You have taken the first steps to conquering yourself. You have come to start that path. Release yourself from the shackles of your past so that you can transcend the confines of your prison and find those that need your assistance. My voice will always be your guide. Know that I am with you. Now leave this place with a burden that is light on your shoulders and merry feet so that you may walk with ease. Follow my voice and you will conquer yourself."

A rant

Staring in the face of death itself the revelation of the frail nature of your existence begins to impose its melancholy upon you. Once a thriving personification of the exuberance of life; a vessel of mundane conception now lies motionless at your feet. The luster of mortality faded from the pores, the lips paled by hues of gray, diminish the ever vibrant passion that once stood on this mantle of humanity. The strands of hair lay limp against the silent station that held the nucleus of her mortality.
     Extremities fallen softly against sheets of somber temperament convey the passing of her grace from the container of her beauty. Left alone in the solace of a contentious world the emptiness  of the void enters into her ever faithful companion. A disheartening sight for a battered soul left with only memories of the moments shared and those that never were, and never will be.
    Exerting sorrow over the frustration of feeling helpless against the onslaught of death has taken one that has cared for so many with no thought of receiving any kindness in return. Through this melancholy a beacon of remembrance sparks hope in a tunnel of darkness. The knowledge that this woman that dedicated her life to the service of others is no longer bound by the shackles of our mortal coil allows one to understand that this piece of flesh and bone is nothing more than a vessel to carry us from one point in our journey to the next. Decaying rapidly before your eyes you begin to be succumb by the departure of her intelligence from this plane. Exalting her very being to a state of ecstasy that will bring her to a point where she can fulfill the lives of those she has cared for in a fashion that would not be possible inside the meager frame that has been left for us to honor. A simple metaphor left as a reminder to all that this is only a stage of preparation for a journey that will transcend the confines of human understanding.
   Regrets for moments lost are an inevitable reaction to the strife undergone with the viewing of the pains of the living as they transition to the company of the deceased. Fleeting thoughts of times when choices were made to lead you away from spending quality hours with the boatman's newly found companion cry forth an agony that chokes the words of comprehension from your throat. While the consolation of friendly arms do little to bring solace to an aching heart.
   Against this tide of misery, through your tears of sadness, your eyes become opened to the translation of a mortal to omnipotence. Leaving behind a world built by the foolish hands of man she has entered into a new chapter written only for those that have proven themselves through the selfless dedication to the progress of their posterity by implementing the wisdom of sacrifice attained during the struggles presented in this life. A wisdom attained by resisting the banality of apathy and lethargy that detract so many from the attention needed to satisfy the innate emotional, physical, and intellectual necessities and desires of those less fortunate then yourself. This example of benevolence is yet another proof of how one person can continue to strive for a charity that accelerates growth and stagnates the decadence of a world redefined to persuade all to condemn themselves to an idle mind, and an idle body.