Heaven Poem by James Timothy Jarrett

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.