Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Soul Journey

Her dress clung in her feminine form,
as the night air drew in breaths
of long traveled journey,
a soul.
Her feet trailing in the soft sweet clover and grass,
as the moon stared in reflection upon the cool creek
as it pooled into calmer lakes,
of a tired heart quest,
reaching for a branch upon the tree,
or a hand,
in heartfelt guidance,
where her mind stopped to rest.
Her dress now wet as she crossed the waters,
over stones,
unscathed, unlike her heart,
as it beat quietly beneath her breast,
in anticipation
a destination unknown,
but a place for solitude,
upon a mountain,
in the calm vision of nature,
to heal the wounds
to which life had placed in loneliness,
to which life had placed struggle,
though much in this solitude beneath the trees,
her heart could never be lonely,
and the struggle crossing over the rocks,
the climb upon the mountainside
a struggle to which is only met in the comfort
of the glow of sunrise, in smiles,
and the healing found in wildflowers growing,
dancing in the mist upon morning air,
where her soul is met.

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