Poem: Mountaintop Experience

I have a friend who
Perpetually
Pursues the
Precipice
That he blissfully calls
Mountaintop experiences.

(“Mountaintop experiences”
Are what I used to call
Those ever so gentle weekend retreats
I have enjoyed attending and
For which I seem to have nothing
To show in spite of the bravado
With which I shared my experiences
From each one.)

I think most people would
Call them something else.
Something like “thrill-seeking”
Might fit.

He likes going to the edge.
His workouts are death-defying.
His hobbies? Skydiving and cliff-diving.
His idea of a fun evening?
Walking blindfolded and
Barefoot through a
Forest he’s never seen.

There was a time that I thought
He was crazy.

Now? I think he’s that much better off
Because he’s
Living his life with such abandon.

Is it really better to live my life
So carefully within the parameters
Set by fear? I am beginning to think:
No.

What if the mountaintop experience
My life calls for is not so gentle
After all?