At The Top

There was a tall tower,
Deep in the woods,
Red and green bricks,
Often misunderstood,
Always a crowd gathers,
So many stand around,
Faces turned up to the top,
Looking up from the ground,
Some throw up ropes,
Some grip rock by rock,
Climbing an inch at a time,
Or flying up like a hawk,
What is at the top?
What is in the sky?
What is there to seek,
Way up, up so high?
Do those crowds below,
Think that upon that tower,
Lies something mysterious,
Some magic, secret power?
As we help each other
Make the epic climb,
All knowing we'll find a place,
Somewhere safe some time,
But the sky is just as blue,
From wherever you look,
The words are the same,
How ever you read this book,
This is what you learn,
That's what the climb teaches,
That there is no platform,
No need for grand preachers,
Shout from the bottom,
Or fly as a bird from the top,
They are the same,
Even if they're swapped,
This forest is deep,
So much space,
Why in this climbing,
Our time is waste?
Out I will wander,
To find my own tree,
That is my peace,
Where I will be free.
Heed these simple words,
It just was to say,
Perhaps we all know,
When we've had our day.