A mountain Trip

The clouds have made steps up to the mountains.
The mountains have fallen to the ocean.
I've climbed the steps and tops of mountains
And seen the ocean eat them away.
On my journeys up I met a bird.
Who spoke to me as he would speak,
In rhymes and riddles
And riddles and rhymes
That made no reason for the times.
But locked in his words were truth.
Truth that my ears would not hear,
Yet truth told my soul would not fear.
My way up he would accompany
And of finer things he would tell me.
The steps have parted for the morning sun,
And the ocean starts again for what begun
Many years too soon, and I have floated down on my balloon.