yes, it is another year

another mountain to climb
from this valley where we sit for the meantime
under a tree where we get our drink
of the the mist
dew-like sustenance

it is another year on this cliff
we thought this is all there is
an edge
where there is no pushing anymore
another shadow comes
and becomes visible as a hill
then a peak
and then a tip of the high mountain
becomes another target
of this unending struggle to be
on top
of our worlds

sisyphus is with us and
we look at those backlog of years
a flood of tears
a harrowing furrowed existence
broken selves bones reunited
flesh mending like torn pieces of
letters
the contents of which you prefer
to forget