autumn’s colors are falling fast, like little letters on the ground, messages forgotten…and I am trodding through the plunder…dull gray of gravel hidden beneath my boots, under leaf and twig.
i learned long ago that memories of pain process this way- when we have forgiven the pain-giver…it takes the changing of the leaves and their falling, ever so gracefully, to cover those steps, and remember the trail without pain.
on this one i sat at intervals, simple slab-like wooden n’s, to catch the air and breathe more deeply. they were not built for me, as i dangled swinging legs far from the ground.
it is not difficult to believe the path was made for another…but i found myself stepping heavily there, and made it back home again…
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How absolutely beautiful…
Thank you.