Rope

Rope binds us like blood

 

Rope

drapes around my feet,

like an old, faithful dog.

It ties us to this vertical stage

we dance upon as we perform

our rising, brutal ballet for

no one but ourselves.

We push and pull our way

upward in turns, minds

focused and taut, hearts

soothed within the harmony

of rock, line, and movement.

 

We and the rope knot our fists

against gravity’s strong current,

as each man ascends alone:

lost in the stone’s sharp grit,

the impulsive voice of the wind,

and the silent distance below.

The bright rope, running

untangled and free, reminds us

our fate is tied to one another.

Rope binds us like blood:

woven with faith, unfrayed by fear,

made brave by love.

 

 

4 thoughts on “Rope”

  1. Thanks for stopping by, Jeff! I’m glad you get it. I’m even happier that you like it.

  2. Thanks, Rob! I’m glad you stopped by to check it out. I think the poem captures some of how climbers rely on their equipment and each other fairly well. I also think that, if one looks, there are analogies everywhere in life that point to our need to trust and connect to one another in common efforts.

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