Over the years, soles seeking counsel
Have pounded their wishes into this sun-baked trail,
And mixed, at the foot of this stone-faced governor, wishes with soil,
So that eon after eon, they sprout and, as now, signal us up the slope.
Let’s climb till our dirty soles are gladdened and light
And we trend blind beyond the peak’s tree line, to where
Tundra, mountain birds, and clouds shade the earth.
Climb north with me to where God is felt and not feared;
To where no brand of strife shall knock us breathless,
Not even Ares, with Fear & Terror bearing down on us;
Yet, if he springs breasted in gold off a vainglorious cloud,
Let the ass land on your horns. Let him learn to fear war;
And Love, post him home without a single speared heart.
For, with a Capricorn’s tenacity,
More than temples craft you in…
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