Cleansing winds on mountains sins

Staring at the base of a mountain, hands rigid, feet burning like walking on hot coals.
The steps must be taken whether they're as hard as the mountain itself they must be taken, weather those soles.
The steps are harsh but driven by an unseen force not from behind but a rope that strongly pulls.
it tugs and tugs causing slips, tears in hands, heart, and soul.
But still you get up determined to continue the climb, for you the climb is a page to a story told.
A closing of a chapter that began cold as the mountain air at the base but begins to warm as the wounds heal from a warmth like a mother's hold.
The summit has been reached a cleansing wind devoid of mountains sins creating a new mold.