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We Walk

The winds blow the sands. We lose our way. We sing our song, and we walk. 

The water is hidden, a treasure for the weary traveler. We give our thanks. And we walk.

We are not promised safety. There are snakes and scorpions lying in the dark. We mind our step.

We mind our manners. We walk.


Nothing is lost. When we remember all we forgot, our song and walking take us there.

The Reed Flute's Plaint

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