the mountain we climbed

The mountain we climbed
was high and you led me,
dirt between your fingers
even while it crumbled,
breaking in bits
as our arms stretched
one after another
toward a finger crack
or lock on the crux.
We had no equipment with us 
no rope, no anchors,
but your eyes were on me,
asking me to trust you,
not by what you said
but how you looked:
Move forward, move up,
it is a facade that
things are breaking,
you get stronger with
every foothold,
your muscles holding you
for each precarious step.
It is time to break
away now from what feels safe,
which is an illusion, really,
for what is safe and 
what isn’t worth risk?

This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com

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