The journey is almost done

and somewhere ahead may be the end of the road.

A little pause, a little breath,

all around are rising slopes.But a breathing space

where one must rest

Here is a fountainhead,

and ahead is the winding old stairway.

But the boy must press ahead.

He has already cast away the clutter;

less burden and a light heart,

the night has come with the stars,

and soon the moon too will shine.

This may be the last leg of the journey.

Who knows the stars may be kind

and before the sunrise the boy may find

his destined place, his cherished dream.