Free Soloing

On the far side of belief
Range other, rarer beliefs.
The mountains are lonelier,

But they’re still mountains. You aren’t
Escaping crowded canyons
Of the commoner beliefs

So much as indenturing
Yourself to the windy cliffs.
Gods and spirits grow scarcer,

Not thicker as believers
Believe. The air is thinner,
The ecology sparser.

But still, you keep on breathing,
Laboriously. You will
Still be convinced of something,

If only that it’s darkness,
The willingness to believe
What can’t be true, beneath you.