17 November 2009

In Irons

The wind dies

and I am still.

Time alone at last

no place to go...

no one to see



Here - now - Presence

Spirit warming

holding steadfast



Now and here

as Presence pales

core beliefs bring hope



Old soul knows

chill, sun, salt, and drink

all will pass away.


Gentle breath arises and

slowly carries me home

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