The Pinnacles Of Maturing

Climbing the jagged slopes of time
each level reached summons new eyes.
From the echoes of the wind
comes the voices of inner sight
as those endless sounds of questions
asked when the view opens the mind
unto some new pinnacle of maturing.

Each height touched with clarity
never is a victory enough
to cease the hunger for more,
that is the deep craving to know
of life’s many crevices
with more a profound grasp.

But we gaze upon the face
for that mountain we all must ascend
where some are left dangling
at some elevation in between
the temporal summit of ascension.

And so they linger for countless reasons,
groaning and sighing over their fate,
like a child in their behavior
because they have yet to keep on rising
so they truly can see
what is the vantage
only gained from experience
at ascending beyond that point.
How lives often get stuck
when too preoccupied by dangling
that no attempt burns in the heart
able to inflame a need for finding new peaks
beyond some given precipice of lucidity.