“I found it!” he said as he closed his fist,
On the piece of his soul he had always missed.
Held one-handed.
While the other extended
And clutched the ledge of the precipice.

“I have no need, nor want, nor whim,”
His smile radiated from within.
Chased and pursued,
Lost, broken, imbued,
Now! Rewarded with joy unspoken.

He did not see the chasm below,
Or feel the wind or taste the snow,
He did not mind,
He’d found his find,
Nothing mattered anymore.

He took his long lost treasure,
Opened his soul for good measure,
He twisted the key,
Slid in his last piece,
And smiled to himself with great pleasure.

So he dangled above the vast unknown,
To him, for once, he was finally home,
He smiled at the view,
And at the snow, too,
And he said, “I am the luckiest man that I know.”

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