I walked pathways nearer to home
Fixed upon the splendor of a wet winter dusk
The turn gave way to regal peaks
In my vision, floating on a cloud of mist

Convention suggested my folly
Of mountains incapable of such feats
But the evening chill
And sickly sweet water in flight
Made it appear to hover all the same

And I thought to myself, How
would I ever mount such a summit
Without an Earthly anchor or a grounded
Slope, was there any chance I could scale
To its most lofty of heights?

To soar, to reach, to strive
As angels lumber by, ever climbing forward
While I walked pathways
Watching them chase their dreams
To floating mountains I cannot achieve