Photography, Writing, Painting, Music, Dance...take your pick. Must we choose? As you may know by now, I write. A lot. Poems, short stories, a soon to be published novel.... After all, what is ...
From whence I came, from the enfolding warm cocoon,
Did I surge up, following a spell cast by the Moon.
Like a spring my life gushed forth,
Needing not a compass to find North.
Wild and eager was my flight, crashing over rocks with frothy foam,
Then slowing, calming down the pace so I could roam...
The still reflective depths of some great lakes,
Made me all too soon aware what were the stakes...
Sudden spurts of motion,
When again I'd lose all caution...
And then again, as rockier obstacles blocked my way,
It took all my life-force to not in one place stay.
Some day I'll filter through all this, perforce,
And add all this experience to The Source.
Distilled from all my travels, drop by drop,
Will I find myself again upon the mountain top?
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