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The mountains are calling – again

November 19, 2014

I must go up the mount again
For the freshness of color and breeze
And all I ask is a forest path
A sparkling stream to guide my way

[thought to the beat of Sea Fever by John Masefield]

Five years. Just speaking to Eli, Swami Shraddhananda, or rather, listening to him as he spent his final months in this earth-world among us, and the yearning for mountains went away. I began to love what I’d earlier dismissed as Flat Florida.

It’s back. The yearning, I mean. But this time I don’t feel the need to go physically. I’m pursuing the mountains on the world wide web of wonder.

The seven peaks of perfection, surrounding Seoul, where Prof Park Jae Woo was born.

The mountains in Bcharri, Lebanon the birthplace of  Khalil Gibran.

Uttaranchal, where the Ganga flowed swiftly as my father’s last remains were consigned to the sacred river four years ago, very close to the place where Eli went back to the mountains, and in the same year that Professor Park also passed.

The mountains hold many memories, generously sharing them on the breezes that meet the traveler seeking the wisdom within. All I’m looking for is those fresh breezes….

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