.
It comes in darkness
like a gentle giant
no trumpets or glare
just strong arms
that lift you
above the sharp slopes
to the top
of the mountain
you’ve climbed for so long.
.
You throw off your pack
and the valley widens
into a smile
and the sun spreads
like butter
on loaves of eternity
and you finally see
that it’s you, love –
you are the giant.
.
.
© 2000, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(originally posted in 2012, now revised)