A promise made is a debt unpaid.
Even goats may have starlight in their eyes.
I remember little of the Yukon or what I wrote there.
Some praise the Lord for Light, The living spark; I thank God for the Night The healing dark.
The lonely sunsets flare forlorn Down valleys dreadly desolate; The lonely mountains soar in scorn As still as death, as stern as fate.
The happy man is he who knows his limitations, yet bows to no false gods.