Machine Of the Universe
Two AM, roll out of bed, Cassiopeia hangs overhead
Half-frozen piece of bread, and it’s time to go
Mountain morning, before the dawn, I pull my gloves and boots back on
Feet play a crackling song as I cross the snow
The full moon shines to light my way
And as the ridge climbs, the valley fades away
A silver chain uncoils far below
Climbers led by their headlamps’ glow
Feet on the ice, eyes on the sky, hands on the stones
The howl of the wind, the march of the stars, I’m not quite alone
Breathe in, breathe out, step after step, slow but don’t stop
My troubles I find, I left them behind when I started for the top
Six AM and I can see the town, a yellow glow two miles down
I’m on the last bit of level ground, so I stop for a break
Then, the dawn begins to crack, the sky’s a lighter shade of black
I sit down on my pack, and wait for the day
When the sun rises from an orange cloud sea
It paints the world in as far as I can see
I know my place, then, looking down at the earth
A tiny gear in the machine of the universe
Feet in the dirt, eyes on the ground, one with the stone
The wind is my lungs, the sun is my eyes, mountain and bone
Holding my breath, balanced above, a thousand-foot drop
This moment in time, it’s what I’d hoped I’d find when I started for the top