To walk the path is to live the path.

Walk This Path With Me

The path of struggle is one we all must walk upon
in the course of our life. Struggle, hardship, falls
on us through the years by the sheer passage of
time if nothing else. We grow, learn, and adapt
from these lessons. We must see them as lessons
in order to foster growth. Some of our struggle is
self-inflicted. Those struggles cling to the very soul
of our being and force us to engage in deeply
personal reflection and evaluation in order to see
a way forward. Some of us struggle with addiction
to substance or reaction. Neither is good for the
body or soul. We must engage the deep thinking
mind to find our way through. Sometimes this
can only be achieved by reaching out towards
others. Knowing when to do so can be difficult
and a source of fear and judgement. Those who
love us will see us not as degraded beings but
as fellow humans attempting to ascend to a
higher state of being. This ascension need not
be anything intensely religious, though for some
it might be, but merely the fulfillment of a long
gestating path of growth.

Walk the Waves

First light and there is
no one around
Alone in silence
I walk down the hill
Sloping towards the beach
Waves call louder with each step
Sand gives and shifts below my feet
Water foams and licks the shore
At last the touch of cold water
soaks my feet and electrifies
my body into full alertness
I press forward into the
water as I sink deeper
into the salty depths
as my clothes cling
to me and my hair
grows wet I bob
up for a breath
inhale deeply
submerge
see the
land
bel
ow

Rise

I will remember
I must remember
This veiled past
Mistakes and
Intuition
How to walk
Again after so
Many years 
Confined

It's a long walk to get back home

I'll make it 

even without you

Peace In The Valley

The valley is filled with rustling leaves

I walk alone as in a foreign land

Listening to strange languages being sung

From high in the branches

My feet are mindful of their steps

And I cannot help feeling

There is an older order of things

Residing in me

A vestigial memory

Of a life I never lived

A memory written

into my blood

An ancient lesson refusing

to let itself be forgotten