The Fudge of Life

An early recollection is one of looking up and seeing that vast and mysterious mountain and wondering whether I would ever climb that high. But I was presently distracted by my aunt who, as a fourth birthday present, made me a plate of fudge. For the next thirty-five years I pursued the fudge of life and quite forgot about the mountain. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, 52-53

I stand, looking at the mountain,
distracted by the computer game
or TV show or Facebook.
I know I long for the mountain,
don't really forget it, but for now
a game, a show, a status...
Can I settle for an artful print
of someone else's photo atop it?
Can I write of what it might be
should I venture out? Can I just wait
and hope someday, by some miracle,
to sprout wings and fly? Or must I act,
do the next right thing, to make that dream
come true?