Meandering feet fall between the scent of wildflowers and moss, deeper into the mountain side this long trail winds. Water courses on a ceaseless tract towards the valley, runs furiously far below where the air is cooler and the sun rains its heat against the rapids.
Liquid snake is common compare, The river beneath the milk puddled blue. Joy soaks all the green that grows, in hedges, lengthy strides and by rows. Here I watch the ever present of growth Here I see the catalyzing mystery, of what comes next. Along the banks of of proud water, scales made from ripples, a mirrored surface refracting radiance, royal and haunted eye azure to dazzle. A bewitching tone of cerulean as you would see skull mounted to the face of a person of purest pale. Baby, wouldn’t you take the briefest of moments, to pause, to break the doldrums of repetition. To slither our bodies the distance across and along that charmed prism of color. We can be washed clean of the need for forgiveness, though we might beg abruptly, for the sky to open, and cleanse us in the love of yesteryears. When trouble was nothing but childsplay, whispered dreams were sought and chased. found, pursued and realized. We would go floating, Bucolic and serene on tides of hope.