POETRY
What it is or isn’t is up to you…
but these words are mine and I get to decide too
thoughts on living
Summers song is ending and then will come the fall. Here I stand now looking back to see how far I have come. With out regret I turn to see where my choices they have lead. Before me now is so much more than just the road ahead. More like where the river meets the delta, before flowing out to sea. The intertwining paths of life combine, becoming so much more than ‘me’.
Building sandcastles
knowing with the tide they’ll fall
Lost to the waves
wondering while wandering
Distant clouds glowing like pearls faintly far above as if they were the dreams themselves
The waxing light of morning lazily reached into the misty morning landscape
Fields still sleeping pricked with diamonds of ice as though the stars came down to nest in the low lying valley stirred only by the wandering deer and the lowing cattle.
Whisking by this painted world.. over a mile a minute.. it’s no wonder that the magic is missed… in an instant the light has changed and so too the destination.
I mourn not for myself, nor for things, or wealth…
But for the loss of possibility that passes with each day.
That for everything I choose to do,
that there a million choices I’ll never see
From my journal on the Camino de Francais, Spain
A thunderstorm on the horizon and the Milky Way over head. There are cowbells clanging softly as the make their way in to the valley. Here a top the mountain in the dead of night we sit… soaking in the atmosphere of the Camino at night. A sight few souls have seen, for they go to bed with the setting sun and look to rise the same.