Your work is so strong and pure
unseeing the illusion of lost hope
you gather around you ever growing
new vision that knows the clear way
as you stand where mountains are born
at your very own commandment
and find them shimmering just for you
all the while knowing behind the veil
that climb them you will and must
for they are the fabric of what makes you
whole in your divinity as you know you dwell
limited only by the moderation your wield
gracefully bowing to the blowing wind
that suits your fancy and makes you dance
free of the bounds you once tied yourself in
like a butterfly flowing from her cocoon
no longer needed in the spring
where you stand in this moment
and every moment you choose
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