I meandered up the snaky path
winding sinuous to summit.
Climbing was an easy course
when the grade ascended
in baby-steps, on and on, gradual.
Once I started to climb,
the summit was never in view.
Ahead, only the next bend.
A script of twists and turns
around the slope of scenes
on way to culmination.
Having made it to the lookout
the valley lay spread out before me.
There I saw the river snaking
across its flood plain,
meandering.
No slope to climb.
No need to wind.
Yet the mighty river chose
the gradual snaky path,
meandering
to realization,
of destination
out of view.