Am I caught in a struggle between mountain and sea? Is it a question, even, which will win?
The mountain stands tall and strong; eventually it will crumble or be worn into the sea.
Walking a winding, stony path, shall I remember that even these high peaks are here for a moment?
Your providence, Lord, is with me whether I wander, or labor, or rest. Walking, or fishing. Grant me equanimity whether my way be high or along flat lands.
Thy will be done.