Photo by Christopher Raley

The Boy Begins It

The boy begins it,
coat too large and cowboy hat
crowning ever smile.
He grips the staff that will greet
grey dawn tapping out the path.

Across fields
wrinkled California hills
darkly folded paint
shadows that diminish
as light in its turn will crawl away.

He is folded in shadow
and the boy climbs
head down, pack slung, one alone
’til he raises eyes searching.
The mountain stands
obscuring sunrise and land.

From where does he start?
At what point on gently rolled earth
or fractured upheaval of rock
does he begin to climb?

The boy begins it
when his eyes are unlidded
and his hand removes the blanket.
Before ever a foot fall is heard
against hard clay earth
the boy grows into his soul.