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Poem – After The Fog
This poem was written as a response to the visual prompt at Northography. We walked the shoreline into the thick fog. Guided by instincts closed eyes and the way feet touch the ground we fell into the fog. Days passed as we felt safe, held by something we did not know or understood. Questions fell…
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Poem Leftovers, Part 2
(1) Within the space of silent wandering what falls away can be forgotten yesterdays discarded paper of a lost time the experience rolled into the collective. they say you are the culmination of yesterday, today and tomorrow. if you hold dearly to the past you will never know the path. the mirror’s purpose is only…
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The Meeting
(1) I followed the man in a red robe with deep purple beads and dreadlocks through the town square lined with meat, seafood, rugs, and incense vendors. Past the fountain until we stopped at the waters edge. I vow to become the swift moving stream atop the slow moving bedrock that is the world I…