Chinkoln

I tread the endless paths and ways,

Through mist unyielding stride-

The gritty soil beneath my steps,

My jog, a tempered glide.

Approaching wayfarers I spy,

Their journeys meet their close-

Their joyful banter echoes clear

Excitement, fully prose.

In ancient peaks where whispers sigh,

Bands of color unfold,

Beauty, like pages, softly lies-

Nature’s tales, scripts of old.

Under the softly burning glow,

Gazing on quilted skies,

Clouds weaving dreams in cosmic flow,

Infinite lullabies.

My confidence - regained and sure,

Breath under measured toll-

A summit gleams before my gaze,

Glinting in the zephyr.