MATTERHORN
Only the highest stretches like this count. I am
walking in the morning light along the tree-line
and seeing sheep fade. My own road and staff
may comfort me, yet I am a shepherd without a
flock. The beckoning call of the nearby stream
reminds me to water the lands of my mind, to
cover those beliefs with the moss of truth and
love, to go on forever, forward for the right.
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