The road into the distant sky
seems untouchable, the journey seems impossible,
but this is the start, this is only the beginning,
if I choose to walk.
I return to that road whenever
direction is needed
whenever I need a reminder of the
path at my feet that I choose to forget.
How to bring ourselves to take the first step,
how to find the courage to follow the path?
Have I taken enough wrong turns,
followed enough roads to dead-ends,
spent enough time screaming into the fields,
that this is the path I am finally ready for?
Holding up the sky as
morning settles into the fields.
We pass beneath the ancient canopy
and quietly fall into its shadows.
after the moment passed, one of those
life changing decisions that, somewhere inside,
I know altered my chemistry, my core and will
reside with me the rest of this life, and each that may follow,
I said to myself, years from now, will I forgive, regret, or forget?
Now I am here today, looking back on 40 years
it took to arrive and I run across the river flowing swift,
I climb the rocks from the shoreline, and I stop at the bridge.
Years from now will I still be standing here again
running circles always coming back to the same place
or will I finally make it across to the other side,
to whatever is waiting?
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Mountains cast their shadows across my face
as the distant river fills the canyon
heading toward the sea.
The path these feet follow,
paved years before by faces
I do not know, yet I feel
their presence and hear voices
scattered to the ancient wind.
If I peeled away the layers
of each universe
would I ever find you buried
within the stardust?
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And we sailed in a cosmic boat made from dreams
across an ocean of stars.
Guided by distant energy we only feel
drawn to what we do not yet see.
Paddling through stellar dust
we travelled through star nurseries.
Something on the other side draws us closer
as we lose track of the passing years.
Stars long-ago transforming through explosions
greet and pull us closer to the beginning.
Cast from expectations of treeless horizons
and concrete enforced cities,
we landed here within the forest
which quickly enveloped us.
Towering pines scatter the August afternoon
and we run through fallen needles and shadows.
At the end of the day we rest in the native grases
and watch butterfly wings open and close.
into the flames the willow tree burns
smoldering leaves melt from the crown
dripping into the snow.
I walk away as the last root burns
and shake gasoline from my fingertips.
the waiting messiah smiles
snow building around its presence.
the thinning horizon meets the
whitening land as shadows disperse.
when the last ember cools and
fire and roar leave this place,
an orchestra plays softly.
I turn back – the beings presence
moving left to right and we walk
together toward the disappearing horizon.
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