I don’t need the mountain to move for me.
I don’t need a sign, or a storm, or a path.
I’ve come to listen.
To stand still and feel the way the wind speaks.
To meet the mountain the way I wish it would meet me—
Quietly.
With awe.
With no need to change who I am to welcome who I’ll become.

You take your steps a little faster
Eyes fixed higher than your breath
I feel the rhythm in my silence
Let the stillness catch what’s left

We don’t have to match our footprints
Or agree on how to climb
I’ll walk with you in reverence
And meet the mountain in my time

I’ll reach back, not to pull you
Just to show you that I’m here
Not to lead you, not to rush you
Only quiet out your fear
You don’t have to climb like I do
We don’t have to match the view
But I will meet the mountain gently
And I’ll hold that space for you

You’ve known the fall without warning
Met the ground with all your skin
Still you rise like it’s a mission
With that fire still burning

But strength and speed aren’t always wisdom
And proof can be a heavy load
So I’ll walk beside your thunder
With my lantern on the road

The mountain showed me all my edges
Made me face what I had feared
It mirrored back the storms I carried
Till I could see myself more clear

It wasn’t peace that came without it
It was pain that carved the way
Now I walk with quiet power
That I had to earn to say…

I’ll meet the mountain gently now
The climb was worth the strain
Not because it made me stronger
But because I stayed through pain

I’ll reach back, not to pull you
Just to show you that I knew
That grace is born in silence
And I’ll hold that space for you

I met the mountain gently.
Not to conquer it.
Not to prove I could.
But to remember what stillness feels like
when you’ve earned it the long way up.

I held out my hand once, and someone reached back.
So now I do the same.

Not to pull.
Not to guide.
Just to remind you…
You can.