The Way of the Light
The mountain is high, its slopes steep.
The sun hides behind it.
The way is daunting: no road, no path, not even a foothold.
Dark trees bristle along its edges, spikes along the spine of some ancient beast.
Clouds hang low, just enough to conceal the true difficulty, enough to reveal your fear.
So you stand, breath caught in your throat, mind blank, hoping something changes.
And then you see the valley — the space between, behind, around.
And you realize . . . the mountain is neither the obstacle nor the way.
The way of the light is everywhere.