At dusk with my trusty
walking stick
& you by my side;
I’m feeling
like a wise old sage-woman.


All I need is a shawl, a few
feathers to place in my hair
& an owl on my shoulder
to nuzzle my ear.

We tread a path where feet
much lighter & quieter than ours
have travelled through history.
Our footprints mingle with
those from 300 years ago,
taking in the beauty
& shade of the same trees;
breathing the same air…

I tangle with thoughts & prayers
as the setting sun shines through
tight clusters of trees –
looking like luminescent embers
of dying campfires
amidst logs and brush.

All around us
the birds are chirping
& the darkness decides to follow us,
in curiosity,
as we find our way back
to the arms of the Signal Tree.

08/02/2012

Posted on 08/02/2012
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