Someone walked By me
led me by the hand
down the paths of
the Way

Looking down, I see
the young Me
Taking me away
to the days when I was not
who I am now

Reluctant are We all,
who can face the pristine
purity of their early times
Now that
byzantine minds are full of
Warped and gnarled
Like knolls of wood
Standing on top of the Hill

Winds come and take away,
my words trailing,
My mind lost

and I look down at
the hand in Mine
then glance Up
smile at the countenance
aboard there
Take me again to that pinnacle,
Now and forever.

As My feet crunch leaves
How many forms
did it take
to make that

Did I ever hope to reach,
to achieve,
to attain
My frail arms
long now for surcease.

Who among You shall
give it ?
who but the child in Us,
come to Make Us men.

where are those lines I loved,
those worlds I saw,
those welts I rained
down on the crying planes.

Never did it happen
that others follow.
some might, some may, None will.
Alone and bereft,
Standing seule on the top of the Hill

wind rocked

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