Let The Wind Keep Blowing

There is wonder and fear up here, up high, where the mountains touch the sky,

where the summer wind still has a chill,

where the beaver dams I carefully cross and the beaver ponds I fish, are all I could wish,

the waters’ cold tries to tell me I’m old,

and that part of me thinks of being down on the dry trail, where, there is less chance to fail,

I hear the fear, I know it could keep growing, so I embrace the wonder and keep on going,

let the wind keep blowing.