A young traveler once met a divide on a mountain side.
One road was current with the path he now tread.
The other seemed harder for in a higher plain did it abide.
But with a hopeful heart, the boy stepped up his stride.
At first, it seemed all was well,
But then he tripped and his courage fell.
His progression slowed as he stumbled along.
The hope he once had was now gone.
He needed to stop. He needed to rest.
But then he recall something that put his faith to the test.
It was the voice of his father and friend.
“Push on, my son. Look for joy on your way.
Don’t stop until you’re reached the end of the day.”
So again he started, his feet still sore.
But he would walk and climb ’til he couldn’t anymore.
As he continued his climb,
He couldn’t help but notice the beauty sublime.
When he stumbled, he would spot all the wild flowers.
As he sweat, he was grateful for the wind and its powers.
Finally, as the day began to close, the weary traveler reached the summit’s peak.
Down the trotted path he looked, o’er the vast valleys and streams.
Such was the beauty he beheld, such marvels as no tongue can speak.
Then upon his shoulder he felt a touch and looked
To see the father death had once took.
Tears brimmed and fell as each embraced.
“Well done, my son,” His father beamed. “Your reward is well earned.
You labored well and did much good.
Thank you for doing all you could.”