 |
 |
 |
||||||||
|
| |||||||||||||||
 The Summit Out of the dust we cometh, With sighs of grief and care, Until the day at the summit, An experience of joy so rare. When my earthly breath ceases, And the winds do softely blow, This withered heart will blossom, Beyond the stars that glow. George Rapanos November 1998  |
|||||||||||||||
