The Misty Mountains
As I traveled the mountains by foot one day;
I stumbled down a valley;
No sands or rocks but in the form of clay;
I began to sob, sadly.
Holy ground!
Created by God;
No distance sound;
The road became broad.
How life changes you;
How you change life;
If you don't know what to do;
What purpose for you to strive?
As I returned to my home, I began to wonder;
The journey had begun, just to make me ponder,
Just silly of me, making a blunder,
Then I changed, to be the rising thunder.
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