crude kayak
They said the work was all in vain,
the same hill, stone, the same old strain.
The mountain listened, said no word.
The world stayed quiet, unconcerned.
He knew the end before the start,
no prize awaited, no restart.
Still every day, with steady hands,
he pushed the weight he understands.
The stone fell down.
The rules stayed true.
The task reset.
The meaning too.
But walking back, without a lie,
he smiled beneath the empty sky.
Not hope. Not faith.
Just this clear view:
Nothing matters,
so I choose to.
gleaming mountain
polar sandal
placid ivy