The plane we have reached

The plane we have reached, is
Like a summit scaled in hard
Labor, over treacherous slopes,
Over numbing snow, biting cold,
And howling winds. What a vista
I see now, from the top, in a slope
Of smooth pastures, of dark glades,
Of deep gullies, of the odd rock,
The meandering river, with its
Green lining. There lies the plain,
From where we rose, to reach this
Very high. Now, proud we stand,
With racing hearts, in twitching
Happiness, of the company of us,
Of the color we see from here,
Of the remainder of our destinies.
Things are small, the faults in the
Scene not big; Detached we can be.
We stand here, the mystique of Gems,
Born out of heat, of pressure, polished
To shine, to adorn the crown, to
Rule over. Glowing in our finish,
Smothered by humbleness, craved
To be touched, to be felt, effort to
Be, within us in peace, in comfort,
In Our sacred spaces, in loving care,
In mutual respect, in a wild tryst,
With life, to life, for a life ……