Afraid of Heights

 

Three of my friends are afraid of heights. I walk and hike with all three.  I find it odd because I have vertigo but am not afraid.  We don't walk up hills that they feel are too steep.  In a way, I enjoy the hills, mostly because I want to see what's beyond them.  This poem by Arthur Guiterman expresses my thoughts.

Hills

I never loved your plains!
     Your gentle valleys.
Your drowsy country lanes
     And pleached alleys.

I want my hills! -- the trail
     That scorns the hollow,
Up, up the ragged shale
     Where few will follow.

Up, over wooded crest
     And mossy bowlder
With strong thigh, heaving chest
     And swinging shoulder.

So let me hold my way,
     By nothing halted,
Until, at close of day,
     I stand, exalted.

High on my hills of dream--
     Dear hills that know me!
And then, how fair will seem
     The lands below me.

How pure, at vesper-time,
     The far bells chiming!
God, give me hills to climb,
     And strength for climbing!

Taken from DEATH AND GENERAL PUTNAM, by Arthur Guiterman, published and copyrighted by E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., New York, 1935.  This was found in Leaves of Gold An anthology of Prayers Memorable Phrases Inspirational Verse and Prose, ed. Clyde Frances Lytle, Brownlow Publishing Co. In. Fort Worth, Texas. ISBN 0-915720-74-4