Hill Walking

A poem about following our own path

Hill Walking

For many years now
I've rambled this terrain
In sunshine, wind and rain.

Some of the peaks
at times seemed out of reach
every step, cutting the core of my feet.

I've stumbled and fallen
I've marched briskly along
At times the compass broken, at times it was strong

Fellow travellers I've met
along the way
some still with me, others just for that day.

I've tried to keep pace with them
Some too fast, some too slow
I thought to get there, with them I had to go.

Then one day I stopped
quite suddenly in my tracks,
perhaps, I should be following my own path.

Would they think I'm crazy
perhaps a little insane,
Not following their directions, making up my own game.

The more I sat and listened
and truly looked around.
My inner compass began to sound

At the bottom of this mountain now
By myself I must climb.
And the only pace I'll follow is mine.


Adrienne Murphy
22/11/2007