Voyage

The hills curve around us
           Light rises, deepens, lengthens
           Pilgrims
A dancer begins
A musician is joined
Every bed is your deathbed
There is always an opening
           Never a dead end
           And the light, growing
           A small fire
Our Mother
           The sound of footsteps with us

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net