Where does the river go?
She mused on life.
Such ripe beginnings to tempt the mouth,
The belly full with fecund growth.
The soul divided by love and hope.
The divine incarnate, the ebb and flow.
When to stay and where to go.
She wandered along the humid banks,
Immersed in silent gratitude,
The sky white-faced,
The sun wore grey.
Long leaves simply watched,
And she went away.
I ask you directly because your silence takes me to the edge and I drown in deep water. What do you fear? You are free as a line that escapes from the pen. We made magic for a time. Our colours sang loudly. Our words whispered softly. Does your heart miss one tiny beat?
She leaned toward,
Not knowing if the shoulder
Was strong enough.
She held herself,
Knowing that she was.
It’s the last night before I fly away from the budding spring and comfort of friends. I’m taking my sketch books along with my excitement. My backpack is full of anticipation, a tiny tent and my sleeping bag. I’m ready for two months wandering… offline. What joy!
Have a beautiful time wherever you find yourself.
You have to look for the signs, said the Goddess.
Is it the snow on the mountain, I asked?
The tree Gods swayed in the bone-chilling gale,
It’s always there if you look.
I passed a glance at the cloud torn sky,
But the Gods continued to shake,
I followed the path and stumbled on rocks,
Dead leaves crackled in mirth.
It’s not so far, said the old man tree,
Watch your step, said the grass!
I committed to Winter this year. It’s a marriage of convenience, considering my heart is elsewhere. Like any relationship, it has a few problems. The iced windscreen at 7pm was rather unsettling. I tried to turn on the defroster but received a cold shoulder. I think we need counseling because it’s going to snow.
Original Photo: Eva Culek
Photo Art: Jeni McMillan