I stood upon a mountain top and breathed the
ethereal air and watched the lofty dreams of
men, a shimmering misty veil. And upon the
the cold uncaring winds I heard their rising
prayers. Cries of mourning, admonishment, , joy
and fear, sailing upwards into the heavens
to be swallowed up by the billowing clouds.
Again I listened and 'lo came the voices of
insanity, a multitude of babble, swirling and
flickering like a grey pallor of smoke on
fire driven wings.And here in this place
gathered all the hopes and dreams and
despairs of men.Cold and bitter but with the
radiant sun shining brightly on them.And I
knew surely that upon these immortal granite
peaks, that men struggled upwards, gasping,
grasping for handholds, sweating, swearing,
falling, groping, rising, packed with all their
livelihood upon their backs, reaching ever
for the snow covered summit.