Passing through

In the valley are dips and swells and
as I walk slowly through sometimes on top
thinking I see everything
sometimes below thinking I see nothing
sometimes with my soul singing I think
I go on forever with the Lord of Hosts
arm and arm journeying in the darkness
I need no friends then for all is well with my soul
sometimes like today
perhaps there is nothing to me except empty intentions and insincerity perhaps
this is all there is and I die alone surrounded by trees and hills and plateaus where no one will find me
they call this a dark night of the soul
I lamblike, bleat my way through the brambles
calling for


Sun sets.


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