Presence

I stood at the base, rope in hand,
Looking at the peak so high and grand.
The rocks looked fragile, my heart felt small,
My fingers trembled against the great stone wall.
Then your presence reached me through your voice:
"You are capable, so conquer like you don't have choice"

So I climbed a quarter and looked below,
The dizzying height made my pulse slow.
I thought I’d slip, I thought I’d die,
But your voice came falling from the sky:
"Don't look down, just keep your pace,
You’re winning this climb, you’re not in a race."

Halfway up, my footing went wrong,
The rope began to sway, no longer strong.
Panic hit me, I started to shake,
Thinking this was the moment I’d break.
But you spoke again, making me calm:
"I’m holding the rope tight, keep moving for the light."

Realizing only a quarter was left,
I paused for a moment, of breath quite bereft.
I felt so proud, I wanted to enjoy and stay,
But then your voice got in the way:
"Don't stop now, you’re almost there,
Give it the last bit of strength you can spare."

I reached the top edge, gasping for breath,
Having conquered the mountain and cheated death.
I reached out my hand for you to pull me through,
But I realized then—it was all on me, too.
I pulled myself up, exhausted but won,
And heard a soothing phrase: "Well done, my son."

Hearing this, I turned my head for your gaze,
But the rope lay tied to a rock, cold and bare in the haze.
The empty place made your absence clear,
And behind the rock rose new mountains, vast with fear.
“Am I enough?” doubt whispered within:
“Yes — because of all I learned from Him.”