How hard it is to see
the highest mountain for the trees
until we hear the ancient knock
of thunder sky and molten rock.
We tear away the mossy veil
that had long concealed the trail
just to find the climb is steepest
where the waterfall is deepest
and it seems we’re almost there
when we breathe the rarest air
beyond the earth, into the sun
where we learn we’ve just begun.
.
(c) 1994, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright
Seasonings 
Great poem – the word flow is wonderful. I especially love the area from “Then we tear away the veil” to “when we breathe the rarest air” is such a natural flow of thought and wording.
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Lovely. I like the whole poem.
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I agree, “lovely” and excellent rhythm…
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Thank you to everyone who commented – glad you liked the poem. 🙂
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“the ancient knock of racing skies and molten rock” – fabulous! Excellent piece, I absolutely love it.
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Thank you, planaquarium!
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Love the rhythm — how this starts with the first four lines all iambs and then the strong shift with the fifth line (“Then we”) which can be forced-read as an iamb but truly is four trochees and really forcefull tears away the veil. Next, with the veil removed each line that follows starts with a strong syllable: “that had long concealed the trail” (strong, weak, strong, weak, strong, weak, strong.) The last line is a pefect bookend for the tearing away of the veil: “Where (strong) we learn (strong) we’ve just (strong) be- gun (strong).
Very well crafted!
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Thank you, zumpoems, for your appreciation of the meter. Poems usually come to me in metered form and I have to be careful of sounding too “sing-song”. But… I love rhythm!
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