The things that trouble me today,
Won’t matter much tomorrow,
For time makes small, the things that weigh,
Upon my heart with sorrow.
The treasures that I once held dear,
Will look to me as stuff,
And as I look into a mirror,
I, too, won’t matter much.
Gone will be the petty things
That once caused me concern,
And I will see as trappings …
The things for which I yearn.
One day I’ll hold within my hand
The nothingness I carry …
Into the realm that lies beyond …
I call the peaceful valley.
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