It is gentled.

Wisdom comes as it makes affront

into soft openings.

It wants for nothing –

and I am freed of its clinging.

It wavers on my back.

Unsteady in its conviction of conquest,

as am I.

Soft earth padded into a path

we follow,

my rolling strides soothe it into

calm.

It is secure in believing 

it directs our journey.

It needs such kindness, this one.