Crag on crag, and crag again;
you cross the perilous ground as if it were flat, going and coming.
Body steady as an old tree, heart clear as a mirror —
one open road into the capital, letting spring back in.
This is a legacy sign. Children, students, juniors, projects — the slow things you consistently tend outperform every quick win in the queue. Invest in what will speak well of you in ten years; the harvest arrives as a grove.
The grove being planted: the dinners, the jokes, the rituals compound into the real inheritance. The fortune favors what gets tended over decades.
Funds the long account — education, seeds, the boring index. Groves beat jackpots, and slow things tended consistently outperform the quick wins.
The promotion that outlasts titles is growing people: the mentee lifted this quarter becomes the branch that bears. The harvest arrives as a grove, not a crop.
Pick one slow thing — a person, a planting, a practice — and give it twenty unbroken minutes today.
