The only way for her to reach this place,
was to climb the mountain;
a giant volcanic citadel, soaring towards the clouds.
With her cheek pressed against the cold granite,
and her feverish fingers gripping into the crevices,
she has skirted along the knife blade ledges.
Now she stands
in a palatial stone chamber
cut into the face of the cliff.
From carved baroque arches,
she gazes at the mountains
as they pierce the sky
like a serrated stone crown.
In the valley below,
the river is a serpentine ribbon
of limpid aquamarine,
winding towards the ocean,
while the sun spills liquid gold on the horizon,
as it slips silently
into the lilac void.
She could stay here in the twilight;
a prisoner in a fortress of stillness,
but the fire that drew her still burns.
The flames leap within her
and she cannot rest,
compelled to go higher.
