Weight
As we climbed side-by-side, your pack grew heavy. You sat, and we shared the load, placing some of your pack’s weight in mine.
Each new day you gained more;
Another stone sent from home here,
Another souvenir for relatives there,
And your pack grew heavier still.
So we stumbled side-by-side, Your pack ever heavier. You sat again, and we shared the load. Some of my pack’s weight must go.
Still more stones you were sent, And readily you shouldered them. I suggested we hire help. You felt bad asking someone else to carry your weight.
Staggering, side-by-side, Your pack overwhelming now. You sat again, and we shared the load. I took the last of my gear from my pack.
Somewhere on the trail, I left these behind: Hope. Peace. Stability. Safety. My pack no longer had room. Still more stones came to you each day, so something had to go.
Exhausted, side-by-side, Both our packs now stone-heavy, We lay on the trail, unable to crawl ahead. I wish we had asked someone to help. I wish we had carried fewer stones.