|The ladder has stood
for seven generations.
My father climbed it,
his father before him,
and so on.
I climb the first rung
then begin to climb.
Rung by rung.
Hand over hand.
Foot over foot.
Looking up towards the sky
I wonder where I’m going.
but excited by where it leads.
I waver ever ten minutes or so.
The long climb is exhausting at times.
A few of the rungs even splinter and fall
beneath my feet.
I stumble and cling and eventually catch
With my head among the clouds
I begin to instead start thinking about
where I have been.
I look down now.
Seeing how far I have climbed
I think back on the steps that got me here and wonder if perhaps
I was just a little too hasty.
But there is no turning back now.
Eventually I climb so high that I no longer
can remember what the ground looked like.
And with the gentle breeze blowing on my face
I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge" week 51
Prompt: There's a ladder, you can't see where it goes because of the clouds.
Where might this ladder to the sky lead? Write about it!