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Fill me with strength and with love I seek you like adventure You are like a bowl of soup and hot noodles on a cold day I keep looking for you, within me and outside I know where to find you but I am shy So meet me in my dreams My memory only serves for a few minutes the dream I wake from Be not shy as am I Wake me up with vigor everyday I do not long for you anymore Can anyone reach a destination?  Is not the word journey a misnomer?  You are dream,and waking state If we someday meet I hope not to find you but to discover you everyday

Papa Messner teaches life  He draws lines only he can see In his mind, he sees images of routes that keep him alive and guide him  He is like Papa, like a warm cup of tea in altitude that comforts me  I could listen to him talk about the mountains all-day His stories are life itself, and his life's work - a spiritual discovery

 She is a vengeful goddess But surely I love her She loves me like a child too So she cannot possibly harm me But I am in awe at her coldness It reminds me of the mountain face

 I sublimate it into joy You get it don't you? Looked into the sick man's eyes  I saw a calf looking back at me Crystal clear eyes, shining light like the surface of a lake His mother was nearby, but in her eyes, I saw tears held back. But when I smiled at her son, she chuckled with effort in an attempt to conceal her struggle. It's moments like these that fill one with compassion. So when I feel her presence, I sublimate it into joy.

 So you smoked the weed with a friend And it gave you a good sleep Not fitful and disturbed like you are used to But gentle and enveloping, like a wave on a beach. But the next time it was punishment, Dependency kills pleasure, so for now, I quit!

 So you think you saw the lady's face today? Was it the same one you saw in that mountain face? Veiled clothing like snow covers the summit and the cornice cast a shadow upon her dark face. We all know she once trod upon that mountain. But why did I see her face in the mountain on summit day?

 Good dogs don't bite Unless they seem good and belong to your cousin Then they may bite you when you are a child You will still remember them as a good dog though For you were too young and your cousin insisted it was a good dog!

 They go into the ground Where it is cold and damp Their bones melt away into the soil and maggots feast on what once gave animation to a body  But their food bowl is buried with them That remains!

 If the laws of the temporal world were to apply I wish to be forgotten But if there is the spiritual realm  I wish you to remember me, forever and more! And more, and more, and more!

 That which has sustained me in adversity and which I yearn to abide by in times of relative ease. That which untangles the entwined branches of perplexity. I swear to keep. Zealous men keen to keep friendships from ages past said :  "When you meet a stranger, give his hand a hearty shake, for all the countless treasures, which in time may come your way, there will be nothing quite as precious as the friends you make today!" I concur!  These verses sing out to me when I need a paean to friendship.