I walked this morning to the sounds of bagpipes

To the sound of wind, to pink clouds burning

To birds bathing, diving through warm currents

My fluttering heart, softly, pulled me forward.

The journey. A flickering candle in my heart's recess.

The pull grew stronger as I approached the edge of town.

near that river where I stood one night

my gaze cast up to the heavens.

A king's chest of treasure, glittering in the night

a moon-lit tiara, a halo of light

The river reeds swayed, thrushes of sage

hosting holy choruses that chaotically waged

The crickets chanted through misty curtains

and frogs relayed their happy cantos

and of course the locusts dirge.

the locusts dirge...

That cry that draws and stops.

That cry always sends me reeling.

I think of those who walked the path before me.

Last night I watched the stars blend into a burning morn'

I think I forgot years ago how inspiring that moment is,

when the distant phantoms that hovered on the lea

draw in life's breath and flush with vital color.

And the stars that seemed so far away at night,

become but a journey, and young sparrows set flight.