Smell of the Mountain

It’s an hour to midnight

The gong strikes and cuckoo sings

He is typing vehemently on his laptop

When a message pings

*

His friend is back from a trek

And awaits below the building

To return the backpack and bottle

He runs down the wing

*

An hour of discussion

He gets the fill of the adventure

His eyes rove as his friend enacts

The key things right from departure.

*

He returns back to his laptop

And glances at the work pending

I need some coffee, he figures

To help with the work unending

*

He goes to the kitchen

And takes the bottle inside

Only to open it

And be taken on a joyride

*

For the bottle emits

The smell of the mountain

Fresh. Nostalgic. Petrichor.

He whiffs again to ascertain.

*

Indeed the bottle smells

Of stories of adventures

Of sweat and success

Of off the road ventures

*

His mind nerves recreate

The feeling of being on a trek

He is standing on the mountain

With hard sun behind his neck

*

The view gets his guard down

For nothing but humility can throng

He relives the magnitude of nature

And the feeling of being strong.

*

He has smelled the mountain now

There is no more holding back

He needs to pack his backpack

And set off on a new track.

*

He sips the hot coffee

Browsing for upcoming treks

For The Mountains Are Calling

And He Should Go!!!

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