The Himalayan tea trail
Among the high mountains is heaven's front door, where yak trains and traders still ply
where the air is as thin as a silken thread, you may look down at clouds going by
where the people you meet are so friendly but few, and the chill in the air is awake
but your muscles are aching, your breathing is hard, how many more steps can you take
you are six days walking from Kathmandu and the trail still rises and falls
the rises are steep and the level parts short, between the mountains walls
with deep ravines crossed by bridges of rope, and the sun burning down on your back
the mountains take everything, all that you had, on the hard Himalayan track
and now you have nothing, no strength and no will, but the tea trail gathers you up
when a tea house appears in the distance, and your mind turns to gold in a cup
so heaven was here after all, just to sit and drink tea in the sky,
as the sun passes over the mountains again, and the day slips silently by.