I think myself a poor giant -
I have no great stones and cannot ascend to heaven,
To seize that which I desperately deserve.
But climbing the mountain I understand the joy of striving;
I feel the ecstasy of the moment.
The wind leaves no legacy,
Yet I laugh anyway.
Bury me on the mountain,
Kissing rock and earth from whence I drew strength.
The clouds of tomorrow will continue to explode,
Coloring eternal blue skies with hope.
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