Yesterday’s Horizon
You and I Suffering
[Read outloud slowly]
To plumb the suffering in our unforgetting hearts, We scale this noble mountain to its peak.
Each exhausted step of aching legs, Powered by the gasp of lungs hallucinating air, Shall find a silent agony.
Dreaming of peace, we close our eyes And lie upon a slope of stones, Only to arise in a solemn blur Of climbing in our sleep.
Wincing, weary, uncertain of our progress, We perch on yesterday’s horizon In search of another and another, Until we trade a glance of understanding Against our will.
Inspired by Aeschylus and dedicated to one who shall never read it.
You generally can’t see the peak of a mountain while climbing it until you are almost upon it. You just see one horizon after another, wondering how many are left, imagining they could go on forever.
I climbed several fourteen-thousand-foot mountains in the Rockies. Contrary to George Mallory’s opinion, I suspect we climb them, not because they are there, but because we want to experience a living metaphor in which pain serves a clear purpose.






