Languid looks from squirrels
and little pools in tree roots
reflecting blue hued sky,
listening to the occasional dry leaf
crunch beneath my feet
giving me away almost every time
No need for signposts on this trail,
i know these steps by rote,
which seem match the beating of my heart
A rock here, a fallen log there
are all the markers i need know...
Has it been forever,
am i lost in Time,
remembering dreams and images
i doubt are mine?
Are we souls brought down to Earth
to learn control and poise
to rise above or dive below?
The Choice is ours,
it's in the choosing we see
the spirit behind the eyes
and the soul no one can deny...
10-13-10
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