May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the
most amazing view.
May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.
May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys
tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets towers.
Into a
dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through
miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue
mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone.
And down again
into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on
profiled cliffs.
Where deer walk across the white sand beaches, where
storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags.
Where
something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your
deepest dreams waits for you beyond that next turning of the canyon
walls
