He climbed through flickers of October’s flame,
Where wild maples blazed in scarlet spray;
Gold aspens whispered softly to his name,
And birches trailed pale ghosts along the way.

The crisp air bore resin’s woody perfume,
Where velvet moss adorned each granite ledge;
Where distant lakes gleamed gold till dusk resumed,
And hope swam through the stillness at forest’s edge.

Billows of cloud unfurled in folds of white,
Drifting toward hidden hollows—secrets sealed,
Their breath as cold as sorrow’s frozen bite,
Yet each new form, by morning sun, revealed.

He passed beneath a vault of azure sky
Where eagle shadows swept down the slopes again;
Ridges spread wide before his searching eye,
A timeless kingdom sundered by his pain.

He paused, his losses kindling darkened dread,
Painful echoes drifting through the autumn air;
Grief pressed its weight in memories unsaid—
Yet still he climbed, the summit drawing near.

Pure beauty, pressing close in leaf and mist,
Insisted on its place despite his scars;
A riot sung in hues he could not resist—
Burning in silent splendor beneath the stars.

At last, the crest dissolved in cloud’s embrace;
With crimson valleys soft beneath his feet,
He learned that grief and wonder share one place—
And found, in hushed awe, himself complete.

He sees at last—the ache that forged his years
Reverberates in the mountain’s weathered face;
In silence, they join their kindred spheres—
A soul restored through earth’s forgiving grace.