Strive out of the darkness,
climb harder, climb fast.
see the sun growing brighter,
emerging through gloom.

Escaping the cold murk,
visibility clearing,
the blue sky appears,
the fog fades away.


The Sun AppearsThe Sun AppearsSeeing the sun meant that I was reaching the end of my woodland climb in the cold fog.

Rise up in the warm sun,
and head for the top,
a pinnacle moment,
the summit is small.

Stand still looking over,
a lonesome tree yearning,
above the many, invisible,
beneath the cold veil below.

The WatcherThe WatcherA lone tree stands on Wood Hill, Ochil Hills, Scotland

Time it is counting,
won't stay for long,
must again join the world,
where we can't see the sun.

Heading back downhill,
the fog it looms larger,
I'm back in the darkness,
alone with the rest.

Back in the fogBack in the fogWood Hill, Ochil Hills, Scotland

The story behind this poem can be viewed in my blog