Mounting and mounting,
The mountaineer
at the mountain top mounts.

Heralding the irrevocable reality -
there is no ascension
at the mountain’s peak.

The gatherer gathers
all his greedy eyes can behold
until one quiet moment reveals
he has gathered empty vanity
unto himself.

The shepherd is the brain of the sheep,
and the sheep, a mirror
of the shepherd.
We strain and stray into
The path of a shepherdless flock.
Dumping doing due biddings
Of the good Shepherd

We fill our storehouses
We fill our hands
We fill our streets
But empty our soul.

At the summit of aspirations,
of dreams and restless desires,
reality reveals gently:
that in gathering everything,
We gain nothing -
nothing
except the love
we gave away
with a pure heart.