The stars led the way.
A staircase to the Ben.
Crisp, crunched steps to a promised land
drew the strangers on.
They had more in common
than they knew that first night.
An arctic frost numbed their tired eyes
to a sleepless open, seeing nothing till now.
Heavenly light made inarticulate rocks speak to the chosen few,
feeding them with stories of biblical proportions to tell.
Hidden joys awakened ancient chords in
dormant hearts as choirs of ice crystals sang out their short lived song.
A fragmented world of broken rocks and ice
Lay strewn around this giant amphitheatre of play
And fun was the shadowed ghost that followed their every step
Dancing cousin to tortured souls.
Mortal pain pleasure drew our friends to an unimaginable summit
Step by step their sweaty toil revealed panoramas of creation
Until the highest point where in silent unison they cried…
This is Christmas.
The view from near the summit of the Ben