straw bery

straw berry

so far up the mountain 

i am merely on the ground

i begin to climb

though the more i climb 

it seems like i dont get further up at all

only closer to the ground 

the sound of the wind telling me ill never make it 

if i listen to it ill never taste the straw bery

frightening this climb becomes 

ever so tall i can not stall

its there i know 

i know i wont have the chance for ever

i will sever the berry from the branch 

i have to taste it

time is wasting the more im not hasting to get it 

tasting it ill be then ill never hear the wind again

its ever so more hard when the wind grows stronger 

longer 

this journey has become 

the more i listen to the wind 

the more it knocks me down 

the more i look to the berry the further it seems 

beams the light of the sun 

the sun helps brighten the way

the straw berry is far like a star high in space

the pace is slow

its there...or at least i think 

i know not of its presence 

rare it is to find one

but i feel that it is there

climbing has become vigorous 

i can only think of its explosive taste

i must have it 

i see it!

im ever so close!!!!

i gaze at it in shock 

my eyes lock onto it 

my hands grab it pulling it off the branch

i hold it 

then bite into it 

but..somethings wrong...

this is no straw berry 

it is a sour berry....

my eyes tear up

my fists clinch 

i can smell its sour stench 

i no longer more wish this as a dish to eat 

i throw it clear off the mountain 

taste now full of sadness 

tears full of regret 

hands full of berry juice 

berry juice becomes down fall

the wind calls out mocking me 

at least i can see what more this mountain with holds 

distance 

i gaze into a valley 

seperation 

theres another mountain i must climb to reach 

though seperated by what seems like an eternity 

i climb it 

i then notice something 

something red!

in my head i think 

thoughts of hope 

hope drives me up this mountain 

only to find....miles of fresh plump cherrys 

cherrys full of success full of gratification 

the wind no longer speaks its wicked tongue 

the cherrys always say kind things 

the cherrys were my success after all 

                                                                                                       -levi cloninger-