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Comments about Stephen St.John
Rough soles made thin
from endless wandering,
driven by a restless soul.
Through mud and meadow,
slight and vast,
I plod on towards unseen goal.
In constant motion, lies my peace.
Reaching the stars, I find firm grip.
In searching that which can't be found,
I stumble upon myself.
The endless road forever winding
becomes for me a temple;
my ceaseless stride, a fervent prayer.
With each step I worship earth;
with each breath I praise the sky.
May I have no Destination!
I let my Nomad's Oath resound.
There shall be time enough for...