Walking the path,
A journey forward,
A journey back.
Center the mind,
Make the feet to follow.
The pendulum swings,
The clock ticks time,
The chime rings,
The song fills the air.
Water flows,
Erodes the soil,
Sifting free,
To and Fro,
Smooth as glass,
Still.
All call deeper,
Change is slow,
A transformation thorough,
Reality shifts,
There is an end,
As there is a beginning.
Swiftly passes
Is over and done,
Gone are the footprints,
Traces,
Clues,
Pointers,
Blackness ensues.
Yet a little glimmer glows,
Sustaining,
Strengthening,
A beacon of light,
Lighthouse
I avoid the rocks,
And see prints in the sand.
This path has been trodden before.
A clarion call and not a siren,
Pushes,
Shapes,
Transforms,
A trumpet blast,
Ushering in the majestic end,
Waiting for the new beginning.
Seasons springs,
Summer harvest,
Fall the leaves,
Frost kills,
Or dormant lies winter.
A birth,
A death,
A decay,
And then resurrection!
Over and over,
Cycle turns,
Repeats and grows,
Wisoned wreathed begotten.
Until I arrive,
Home.
