Realization that fascination is only on the horizon
never close to hand, only over there and rising
like the sun, until it sets and the mind is only set on surviving
a night, a night with the directional glow of the maps lighting
the path to the mountain shining like gold, beyond the lightning
weathered blinding storms that left the innocence frightened
where no more is recited, no more is inviting, no more hiking
time like rope its binding, tightening till the here and now is the only sighting
and fascination like faith, is the only thing that's heightened.