The rock face
Looked intimidating,
A sheer drop,
With no ledges
To break a fall.
Those who approached,
Stood at a distance,
The ground between,
Almost as hallowed
As the monolith’s
Formidable countenance;
Both objects of worship
Through the ages,
The rock face,
And its surrounds,
Revered, and sacred
To meek human folk.

The tumultuous storm,
That strikes and pounds
Against the rock face,
Relentlessly,
Cares not for victory,
Nor defeat,
Nor indeed holy,
Or unholy.

The work of the storm
Through the ages,
Has carved for us,
A foot hold,
On the rock face –
Gone its place
Under the sun,
As a sacred one.

Image Credit: Photo by Bernard Spragg on StockSnap