If I were to

Take off this backpack
Pour something to drink
Serve up a warm plate

Turn down the blinds
Pull tight the curtains
Ease into a softer shade of mind

Close the window,
Fasten the shutters,
Hide from the elements and the wild,

Would I ever miss

Soft rustlings of leaves whispering in my ears,
Gentle dews licking my finger tips,
Vibrant horizons reflecting in my eyes

Bidding winding paths etched in thick, forested hillsides,
Stretching on toward spiraling mountain peaks,
Boasting a view I wouldn’t dare dream to make my own.

Or would I dare?

Dare to go on
hungering,
thirsting,
dreaming,
ascending?

The true procedure of spiritual advance is to envision beautiful things of this world as steps along which one mounts upwards to that Higher Beauty. -Plato

Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.
-Robert Frost

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