The whistle of the liberated air

The crunch of the snow

As they enter the mountain’s lair

But through the snow they plough

Higher and higher they venture

Winter’s jaws waiting to pounce

Yet they trudge along the bleak texture

Fear void, not even an ounce

The mountain’s chilling breath

The raging snowstorm

The admonishing howl

Mounting an endless assault

Yet they steadfastly ascend

Striking down nature’s antagonism

And through the apex of the storm they arose

Their souls rising into a heavenly air above

Chaos transmutes to tranquility

A once turbulent air now soothing

And the travelers stand attuned to nature’s call

Blending with the cold, the wind by their side

As they peer deep into the distant horizon

Returning to the mother they had nearly abandoned