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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>0405 The Mountain of Truth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This bloody poetry writing - it's like rock-climbing -<br>who asked you to, anyway? <br>who needs it? <br>why can't you be just like everyone else -<br>admire the mountain from afar, <br>Olympus, Parnassus, whatever, what's in a name? <br>its cap of snow, the way you often can't see the top<br>for mist; like romance around truth.<br>Homer at the top saw gods - shall you? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But no -<br>it's a fine summer morning<br>and you get the urge to see the view from the top; <br>well fine, but that's not enough for you, <br>no going up the standard route for you, oh no, <br>you want to be the first to get to the top by<br>a new route never attempted before...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">so there you are an hour or two later, at the grassy foot<br>safe in your skin and about to risk your life<br>(and your reputation, you conceited little man) <br>and off we go...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the rockface, truth itself (and did you give a single thought<br>to how that was built, or who might have built it?) <br>and you with this tiny, hot ambition; <br>but take it calmly now, word by word, or you're in trouble<br>and it's a banal climbdown for anyone to see and read.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and it's not as if anyone is going to appreciate <br>the difficulty of your climb<br>without doing it themself; and taste the exhilaration, <br>the selfish, lonely, glorious exhilaration<br>as you gain the top, and gaze at the heart-stirring, breeze-blessed view<br>as if you are for those few minutes before other thoughts creep in, <br>the master of your universe...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but beware, even the climb down you now face<br>back to the plains of everyday<br>may be a sterner test - humility may even<br>cross your mind, as you recall each step<br>that that same rockface of the truth<br>that challenged all your skills to master, <br>saved your life every step, by its every ancient crack and crevice<br>so conveniently provided by nature and those millions upon millions<br>of seashells that built this truthful mountain...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and now, you're back on the level plain of everyday -<br>are you going to keep it quiet, or tell the world? <br>'Look, there's the mountain I climbed! ' 'Yes, I saw it<br>in the paper - how's the wife? ' And though<br>it'll be recorded in the books, the later editions will point out<br>that yes it was the first, but that was before the first<br>girl did it by that route, the first child, <br>the first man did it barefoot, <br>the first blind man did it from memory...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">yes you'll feel good, yes you'll feel a bigger man, <br>yes you'll be a better climber for it, <br>yes your fellow climbers<br>will treat your name with respect, <br>yes they'll read it in the books, <br>but they'll never know, unless they try it, <br>how it felt at every risky step, <br>the holds you didn't take for caution's sake<br>on that rockface of truth, <br>what went through your mind or got blotted out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But you'll know. And that's enough for you.<br>Personal satisfaction. And the hope<br>that your book about it will touch others, <br>even sell well. Your heart's in it -<br>what more can you ask? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">This bloody poetry-writing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460837" data-title="0405 The Mountain of Truth de Michael Shepherd" data-description="This bloody poetry writing - it's like rock-climbing -
who asked you to, anyway? 
who needs it? 
why can't you be just like everyone else -
admire the mountain from afar, 
Olympus, Parnassus, whatever, what's in a name? 
its cap of snow, the way y..."></div>
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