When She Looks Down

author’s note:

I use the third-person pronoun in this poem because I’ve never actually considered returning…

But I can understand why someone would.


WHEN SHE LOOKS DOWN

Long ago, she began to pull a plow
up this steep slope
after being told she’d find
a terrace somewhere in the upper reaches.
There, she could plant her crops
close to the sun
and reap great abundance--
she could earn a paradise.

But sometimes on this trek
she stops to rest
and then looks down
at her old life far below
on that gentle level ground--

from a distance
its way seems so much easier.

She then begins to question
her decision--

she’ll think:
maybe I won’t gain a paradise
if I continue to climb
but lose one--
down below I could chat and drink
and feed and sleep
in the pleasant shade of the cliffside--
I could fade to my end quite contentedly.

But if I returned
wouldn’t I always wonder

what I might’ve discovered
above those mountain clouds?

To abandon my work would be
to abandon an aspiration
that has given my life meaning.

All my hard-earned progress lost
in the dizzy whim of a moment!

In regret, I might feel
even weaker than I feel
when I’m climbing.
Even smaller.  Totally insignificant.

At this point in her thought process
she’ll tell herself:
okay, I won’t return today
though I could
and indeed I might--
tomorrow.

Then she’ll stand
and begin to climb again--
having completed yet another round
of a mind game she uses
to move her feet
when she feels so fatigued--
so frustrated
and lower instinct
threatens to triumph
over higher.

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