In ascent, I lost my step -
With passions rush, the fragile wept.
Each stone I turned, a hope, a dream,
Yet missed her gentle flowing stream.

Mountains stand tall, yet fragile too,
Their beauty lies in paths they drew,
A journey climbed with care and grace,
To find the hearts quiet place.

I climbed for heights- for grand design,
But lost the stream, her softest sign.
The stream was there - serene, unseen,
While i chased skies and seas between.

I sought the ocean, vast and wide,
Its depths - my hearts blind guide.
But in my haste, I failed to see,
That stream that whispered tenderly.

Mountains stand tall, yet fragile too,
Their beauty lies in paths they drew,
In ascent... I lost my step -
With passions rush, the fragile wept.

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Miraman, in the year 965 AF.