I’ve put you a hill…
More like a mountain.
I’ve surrounded you with gardens and light
That in the distance shimmering…
Compel me to climb.
I climb this woman-made incline
This pedestal
Fueled by the hope…
Of one day reaching you
And yet,
The closer I get
The more I see
The more I realize
Each garden a mirage
Created by my love, so determined to find a place
To plant and grow
I reach you
Atop my own personal Mt. Olympus
And you stand
And I stand
And I, no longer craning my neck,
Trying to distinguish your glory from the clouds…
Realize that sometimes
Mountains are really hills
And hills are really plains…
And the view is not always the best
From the top.