A/N: Each line of the poem had to end in a punctuation point, so here is what I ended up with. Sort of inspirational, too, I think.

The Hike

You see the morning sun rise over the high hill's crest.

It illuminates the rocky trail before you.

The wind blows past, cooling your face on your trek.

There is only another half mile of the path ahead before you reach the top.

Behind you, a small group of hikers is pausing–

Their numbers have dwindled, and they wait for the stragglers to catch up.

You turn and face the trail again, catch your breath, and take a step.

A half-hour passes, and your leisurely pace halts.

Your uphill trek has finally come to an end at the crest of the hill.

The valley is laid out before you, golden under the noonday sun.

A cool breeze runs up the valley wall, brushing your hair from your face.

Behind you, the other hikers have almost caught up to you.

You look ahead to see the rest of the trail to come.

One breath is drawn of the sweet warm air, and one step is taken toward the future.