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The Climb
by Elani Spencer

Our people,
born from distant snow-dusted peaks,
venturing from far away cacti-freckled valleys
& the pulsing streets of cities
or conjured from the light of the Roanoke Star

The poppy-lined paths of Blue-Ridge
lead us towards each other
& the future we seek

We will follow the breadcrumbs
our ancestors have left us
& forge our own way
through unexplored terrain
stumbling over overgrown roots,
cracked boulders,
fighting forest fires

& a country on fire

As we ascend,
we will breathlessly whisper
the secret to peace
to passing sweat-drenched dreamers
storing their wishes
in stainless steel water bottles

waiting to pour them into the well
of the American Promise
& hope salvation stares back at them

Soon we’ll gather together
on the crest of something greater
making our last scramble to the top
with callused hands and aching knees

Oh weary traveler,
keep your head up

“We’re almost there!”

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