as the zephyr
But as lost as the stream
that we couldn't quite see
He needs composure
and I'm a crashing storm
The question kept arising of
Who Are You
My answers were lost in pages
of journal entries from
the months of relaxation and meditation
Rocks in my shoes will be a constant
reminder of the night we walked
to the edge of our minds
but then traced back our steps
Into the valley
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