Winds of change imperil
life's best built house of cards,
and devils lurk outside church walls.
We may be cursed plodding through
the maze of choices and
peering through dark keyholes
avoiding windows open to the sky.
Woods, fields, and streams
abound with endless flory
their creatures living
casual seasons in the sun.
Perhaps the only truth is
our reflection in a stream.
We may be closer to the truth
lying under trees
than climbing up the mountains.
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