There is a higher road that each must find,
each in his own way, in her own time.
You show me yours, I'll show you mine.
And though the way be strewn with thorns,
lift up your gaze, the red-headed rose
is worth the climb.
Adorn your mountain with a cloud, and climb, climb,
through wind and rain: the view from the top of the world
is already yours.
Time is but a daze. It will be over
in a moment. And heaven is not so far away
as we have thrown it.
Though you may seem to walk alone
on paths defined by broken stone,
lift up your gaze:
Use the landscape of your mind.
It is only a little climb, and you and I
were never as far from home as we supposed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The choice is ours as we devour time or it takes us. An imaginative and inspirational poem.