Uphill Blues

Uphill Blues

When did this rock become a boulder,

this slope become a hill?

I guess the way to reach the top

is through some yet mastered skill.

I’ll pause here for a moment,

my feet I’ll safely brace;

I’m going to reach the hilltop,

but please don’t turn this to a race.

Gravity’s against me,

and this boulder weighs a ton;

sometimes I’d like to just give up,

and wish I’d not begun.

But I have to keep on pushing,

find some way to keep strong,

for if I let the pressure off

I’ll be squashed before too long.

One foot and then another,

my arms they surely ache;

what does this hill demand from me?

How much can I take?

The sweat is dripping from my brow,

my arms and legs do tremble,

I wish I knew just how I could

this boulder disassemble.

Perhaps there’s some solution

if I swallow up my pride,

I need to edge around a bit

and leap straight to the side.

I don’t trust my reaction times,

the ground’s becoming slicker;

if I stop with this eternal push

gravity will turn out quicker.

And so I simply plod along,

the boulder looms above

and it forces all my strength

to focus on the shove.

If I lose my footing,

or forget there is no rush,

this boulder will roll backwards

and then me it’s gonna crush.