What does one say on a Sunday afternoon when the light fades and it feels that all that can be said has been said? Surely that is untrue, yet sometimes imagination runs away and decides to play in a sandbox in a different place and I am left forlorn and abandoned, unsure of what is true. But perhaps the thought should simply make me dig in towards the center and look for this other place, that land for which my imagination yearns. If I am left alone, perhaps I am not in a position of authority to state that this land which I call my home is in fact the homely house for which my soul desires. But really, my thoughts spiral in on themselves and would collapse if it were not for the green and flowering arrow of reality that pulls my thoughts tight around it and points me towards that higher altar of light blessed truth. And so I turn once more my head and gaze upwards and slightly to the west.
Tag: pilgrimage
Swift Sunrise
A lilting laugh and fields of green,
and all the clouds dance triumphant –
morning light and friend so sweet,
how can we not praise the King?
Upon a mountain, flowers lush,
and grass bending gently under
the kiss of the wind and
only the song of the birds
touch the silence.
Once upon a time,
Once upon this earth,
there was a man
and he was called from
a far country,
and he looked to the heavens
and he let his gaze linger upon the stars.
And he walked on and ever on.
The road was long and rocky yes,
and it led him he knew not where,
but his heart was full of love endued
and his eyes glinted grey in joy.
The road led him he knew not where,
and he walked in weariness at times,
but he walked not alone.
Once upon a time,
Once on this dear earth,
there was a man
and he was called to
a far country,
and he looked up to heaven.
And his eyes reflected back the stars.
Something Weird 