Dwarfed by the sky at night These fearless mountains are nearly lost from sight Track the hill with a harvest moon Moving, shifting on across a winter sky
My thoughts drift away An Illusion of light Feel the rain in the air Where the thin mist is hiding, shrouded [I'm] there
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So long as we do not die to ourselves, and so long as we are identified with someone or something, we shall never be free. The spiritual way is not for those wrapped up in exterior life.