Send it Onsight

I
I
I
on the wall high
see down below
encouraging faces.

Calling out
"Nice!"
as my toe finds hold
or my fingers wrap around
the jug.

Crags crush the digits
and callouses form
alongside scratches on knuckles
yea, they be
war wounds.

My body aches as I sit with Clif
finding much needed
gnosh
gnosh
nourishment.

"Take!"
I exclaim as I reach the end
of my rope
and float gently back
to Earth.

From up here I can see
God
painting the horizon
in amber brushstrokes
of infinite
understanding.