Missing the Point

I climbed up through the misty wood,

The pathway was obscured,
But I was intent on the climb
And to all else inured.
 
I thought the climb was all the plan,
I forced myself higher.
I felt reaching the top was all
To which I should aspire.  
 
Yet when I reached the mountain peak,
I found I’d been so wrong.
The point was not the peak, at all,
But the climb, all along.   
 
The beauty through which I had passed,
The Lord’s splendid design,
Were meant to matter more to me
Than those efforts of mine.
 
So now as I climb down again,
I pause along the way
To gather up the sights, the scents,
The essence of the day.