Once more, beyond the bend.
On this Torrent’s puzzling Whinde.
Toward higher vantage, may you Ascend
And gaze upon the River’s Mind
Below the timber, it carves out stone.
It beckons with a trembling roar,
Ringing through the Rocky Valley,
To finally Land on Sanded Shore.
It’s call is Rushing, demanding Choice.
Go no further? Or venture still?
It asks this question of a Man.
It tests the Nature of His Will.
And Will You rise and persist?
Through the pull of Current, so few resist.
Won’t you Ford against the flow?
For the sake of going, where most Won’t go…
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