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Destination

Each day beckons a chance of rain
As the sun does a glint of shine
Fleeting pleasures or persisting pain
Crags to fall in or ridges to climb
By the wet wayside I wander
My destination feels faint and far
The lion's roar of distant thunder
Becomes my gracious guiding star
For it assures me that my way is true
So I inch toward that ever candescent sound

Knowing the inevitability I'll make it through
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Monday, May 13, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: goals,journey,life
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