Top of the mountain

She reached the top of the mountain

battered and bruised and somewhat confused

but she breathed the air of one quite relieved

to be where no man had ere been before.

She knew for a fact because pristine and clean

un-ravaged by greed and man’s mortal needs

and nowhere a sign of destructive measures

designed to lay waste to the pure innocent.

So she stayed for a time to pluck from the air

the strength to return to where she came from

and thought to pretend for a life time or more

still too weak to tackle the down.

But the down is the making of character

and the moulding of all she needs to be

to release the strength to face the unknown

and to finally know she did it, she did.

So she loaded her wagon with all that she was

and made her way down steep inclines

careful to not dislodge her resolve

to conquer the pitfalls of life.

And she sang the song all gypsies do

day and night all the way down

till back in the midst of humanity

she became the queen of all that she knows.