Dear Son,
When you see a mountain
And choose to climb it,
You will see
Those that choose the plains.
You will be alright.
They will be alright.
You chose high,
They chose far.
Remember.
All that matters is
Where you want to be
And where you are.

Dear Son,
When you climb
Up that mountain,
You will see people above you.
Ask for help, but only when needed.
They may help you.
Remember.
Far or high,
Wherever you want to fly,
Every bird wants a flock close by.

Dear Son,
As you climb up,
Some that chose the plain,
Will laugh at your choice,
Wait for your fall,
Call you a fool
To scale the unknown,
Leaving the plains to climb alone.
Ignore.
Remember.
When you reach your peak,
You will know
That you have not been weak.

Dear Son,
As you climb up,
Some that chose the plain
Will applaud you and wish you well.
They will wave and cheer
As they move on ahead.
Wave back. Cheer. Wish them luck.
When you come back down,
To move far after the high,
You will see them return,
From afar, for the high.
Trade your tales.
Remember.
As they go higher faster,
You will go faster further.

Dear Son,
When you have climbed high,
Pause. Take a look.
You will see people below you,
Looking up to you.
Wondering what it took.
Offer help, but never insist.
Remember.
Far or high, wherever you fly,
It never hurts to have a flock near by.

Dear Son,
Life is a finite adventure
Of the infinite.
Peaks will show you the plains,
Plains will take you to the peaks.
Remember.
Life is not measured.
Not in mere days or weeks.
But by your footsteps in the plains,
By the handgrips on the mountains,
By the sweat of your palms, passed
With every help you sought or offered.
By the many lines on your face,
That mark your thoughts and your smiles.