winding toward the summit

I've left behind 

the small rooms 

of my life. 

I slip through the great hall,

a pilgrim

like the figures

in this Chinese hanging.

They're climbing a mountain,

lost in the inky lushness

of trees, the steep

winding toward

the summit.

 

[Norita Dittberner-Jax, from 'Art Museum', in
Stopping for Breath]