Tender, Touched, And Ponderous... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is the
first time always
that makes it
hard
the climbing of
the mountain
the mystery there
the uncertainty
of it all

but once you
are there
on top of that
hill
beside a big
rock
inside the cottage
built by your
papa
with a word left
that you must
sleep there
for a night
to listen to the
story of the
wind and the darkness
of the night

the morrow comes
with the comfort that
everything becomes
easier by then
when you come down
when you pass the same
river
when the road becomes
visible
when the sea is near
when the breeze touches
your skin
and taste the salt of this
life

you remember
papa and thank him for
the secret lesson
of this hardship

well, everything
turns out right
and you move on for
another year of your
life

tender, touched, and
ponderous....