In climbs through bitter trenches,
Beyond the tangles and jagged twists,
We find, at the top of the steepest mountain,
Wind, which could topple us over.
Instead, it lifts us upward;
Grasps our chins.
Its trellises guide our limbs,
Toward the universe,
Which could swallow us up.
But, if we are lucky,
The stars, which balance on the edge of the end,
Will touch our lips.
And instead of blinding us, they will show us,
How to swirl a mocha sea, blue.
