Here opposites collide.
Suppleness flows over rigidity,
warm sweat slicks the dry grit
the rough abrades the soft.
Hanging from fingertips
curled in the tiniest crevices
of cliffs rooted in bedrock,
the mortal defies the eternal.
Empty space echoes below
the mote that cannot fly.
Face to the rock, back to the air,
the fragile outfaces the fall.
Warm and breathing body
presses its flesh to the
bloodless skeleton of the earth.
The mind explores the mindless,
using flexible wits to flow upwards
and making the harsh stone
both stairway and podium
as the rock uplifts the flesh.
This was inspired by another image from Rick Mobbs – a photo rather than a painting this time. It also draws on the memory of doing some bouldering during my holiday a few weeks ago!
Words that sing 
Climbing, climbing…does the summit even exist?
rock climbing is for the strong of heart,
adore: as the rock uplifts the flesh- whoa
some wonderful lines here, lirone, especially
warm sweat slicks the dry grit
the rough abrades the soft.
the sounds are fabulous.
I really enjoyed your take on Rick’s photo. Reminds me of the days when I had the courage and the youth to hug the high places.
Lirone, I like it a lot. I stumble over “bloodless” though and wonder if the word is necessary? Not to critique a poet, just wondering…
Thanks for all your comments. I certainly had fun with the opposites here!
One of the points I wanted to make here was that, without the rock, there is no summit, no testing ground. So even if the flesh ends up on top, it is there because it is uplifted by the rock.
Rick – feel free to critique any time! I’ve pondered what “bloodless” does for me – and for me it is necessary to place “skeleton” in contrast with “warm and breathing”. I can understand the stumble it causes in the rhythm, but on balance I think it’s worth it!