||The Climb|| As last night's frost on the leaves melt into a shining dew and the day's light pours into the valley in a golden hue I begin the climb up the Kingdom's daunting mountain peak to hope and search for answers that all men in lassitude seek
Up above me,perched on the valley's bare rock cliff stands the Nest of the Tiger,made through songs of old belief In there must sit a hermit, and a butter lamp flickering by his side? lost in sempiternal contemplation,somewhere beyond time and tide?
The cold mountain air numbs the earlobe,yet there's a sweat on the brow careful of the young buds on the path,for into morrow's flower they shall grow And then as the heart beats against your rib,and limbs turn wooden sore you gather your sticks and bones and climb the hill some more
It is never about the Answers that throw men to the wind always it has been about the Questions ,that first we need to find for the wisdom that you find at the top, is the wisdom gathered on the way because while long lost in such solitary climbs, You meet Yourself,they say