The Mountain

I found myself surrounded by mist and nothing was clear
That which seemed right one minute seemed wrong the next
It left me confused and I could not decide which way to go

And then, out of the mist rose a great mountain
This mountain had no right or wrong, no way it must be traveled
This mountain, which I could not previously see even though my feet stood on it

This was the Mountain of the Soul.

And before the mist encircled once more, I could see that it was infinitely more vast
and complex than any mountain of this world