Spending Breath

Standing on the summit,
The peak, the apex, O' to wit,
Standing on the highest ridge,
As if upon a bridge,
Between earth and heaven.
And all that lies before my eyes,
Has lived, breathed, moved, and someday dies,
But for this moment which I have spent,
As if in a catalytic foment of time with nary come nor went,
In this time-binding hiatus,
O' to wit, heaven aid us,
To not slowly slip like serpentine sorrow,
Back into the monotony of the morrow,
Let us remember this moment,
When all time was bent,
To the foment by this beauty sent,
Clarity given: breath by beauty stolen is well spent.