We have rocks in our bones.
Our spirit guides our feet
through the mountains we are made of.

Down endless routes,
up untracked miles-
we listen to the wind console the planet,
we watch the unchanged stone
taste the dusty granite.

The sound in our ears -- just tears
from a lonely sky.
We see the blazing cedars and the eagles passing by.

We feel magic in the moment
and slow, breathe, watch, but never stop.
Not until we reach the summit
Not until we attain the top.

Then we behold the world
with a new set of eyes
The essence of adventure
lies in rough disguise.

Clair Waichler wrote this for her 9th grade honors project.