Poetry and Musings

I stand motionless, yet moving,
Being carried with the golden ripples
Ever expanding outward.

Flowing into, out of but never leaving,
Apart from, becoming one with the same thing,
Always changing.

The vastness is overwhelming,
Awesome in the eyes of a piece of something that is everything.

All my life I have been moving, with conviction,
Somehow knowing without an answer which path,
Which bridge. Often alone, occassionally lonely for someone
I know is out there,
Looking for me, I keep moving.

I am a sprout, lapping up dewdrops,
Absorbing the sunshine, rocked by the moon.
Warmth surrounds me.

I gather up pansies etched with old men's faces,
Their bushy eyebrows raised with wisdom.
Like fathers to daughters
They tell me their stories,
Collected from lifetimes,
And  lifetimes before them.

The forest is deep,
The darkness confronts me.
I move with caution, looking behind me,
Beside me, within me.
Searching, my feet keep moving,
Taking me forward as if by the knowledge that
Movement means life.

At first it's a whisper
A voice out there somewhere,
Softly calling me, guiding me.
The darkness stretches ahead but the voice sounds sure,
Come forward,
Come to me, do not be afraid.

I am on fire, near my journey's end.
My instinct tells me who you are and I panic,
Torn between running to, or away from.

I stumble and you are there,
Arms lifting, letting go, reaching out, embracing.
Your eyes find me, I see you.

Flowing into, out of but never leaving,
Apart from, becoming one with the same thing,
Always changing.

The vastness is overwhelming,
Awesome in the eyes of a piece of something that is everything.


(*This is an original, Copywrighted work of the author. No part of this may be reproduced in any form without the author's written permission.)