Walking on edges

This is a time for changes. This is a time where fear meets courage. One foot in front of the other, looking at all that surrounds us at the moment.  It is all we have. It is enough.

Walking through clouds

I see the clouds falling over the tops of the forested mountains.  They can fall to the bases and then I will be walkinging  in clouds.  I will not see my feet, I will not know where I go, I may get lost.  Where do the lost go? Where do they find their way back on the road of life. Do they?

winter

The morning comes slowly, white and grey. The mountains hidden - are they really there?  We can wander in darkness of night and the darkness of the day, with the grey places in our lives that we wander through as well.   I look behind me for traces of footprints- but they are gone.

windful sleepfulness

The wind blows by my window like a ghost train bound for nowhere. It lulls me to sleep and produces wild dreams of adventures and travel.  The morning comes and the wind has stilled giving the valley a clearness of detail so that each mountian top is sharp as a knife.  This range of mountains stablilizes the valley and each canyon carries a name inducing wonderlust and awe.

Road home

Long roads home not always without surprises of peach feathered skies with baby blue backdrops- changing always changing like our inner landscape.

Fire and Ice

A soul on fire and ice, a heart with fire and ice. A contrast lonesome, intense and unreplaceable by any other natural combination.