The mountain towered above us
As we stood on ancient, sacred stone
Our quest, teenage sons and I
To ascend to cloud's heights unknown
Greying hair and the wear and tear of life
Far above, unsure of a physical goal
We climbed, sweating and grunting
A new chapter, accepting my new role
Sons like mountain goats
Bound from rock to rock to rock
While I pant, ache and pause
Fighting the urge to compromise and stop
"careful Dad," "Are you OK Dad?"
prod em on to be with them
until slowly, almost eternally
We stand at the top of our whim
Cool winds dried the sweat of my brow
As we stood, at the top of the world
High above the ancient stones
Shirts flapping as flags unfurled
There, I handed over the crown
As my star fades, their supernova sings
I see more in them than I could ever be
The King is dead. Long live the Kings.
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