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This barrel of grief
once...hollow...black...without floor or perch
frighten me a little less
with each rung of the climbing out
I am a traveler
exhausted and weary
still navigating those same familiar roads
gazing upon splendid vistas
a gift of lanterns lights my way
opalescent pearls and magic beads illuminate the pale dawns
When I stumble on new roads
my dress is rimmed with mystic dust
so, i walk a little slower
no need to hurry this journey
Sweet temptation beckons
beneath this stranger's saucy smile
i bend like a willow
to show a fellow traveler
the grace of my limbs and
the recognition in my eyes
this has the makings of healing magic....
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