Traveler, Diverted on the Path

Traveler has been preparing
for a long journey.
She has put on all of her wolf magic,
for the going
will be hard.
Wolf head on a cord around her neck,
wolf robe on and walking stick in hand,
she sets out
on a road full of hazards
and waystations,
with one eye on the windy trees,
the other on the  rocky path 
under her feet.

Traveler has confidence in the journey.
Wolf women know much
about difficult terrain.
They have stamina and endurance
and know there are  times
when one cannot evade the fiery pit,
but must zip along, leaping,
singed whiskers and tail to show for the buffeting,
hearts singing with triumph
at the Going Through.

This time the road ahead is unknown.
She will need all of her strongest medicine.
Stalwart, she readies her heart 
for the rocky cliff,
the stumbling stones,
the mountain pass.

But when she comes to a fork in the trail,
surprisingly, the arrow points left
into a field of daffodils.
There is a pond, and food
and a comfortable den
all waiting for her.
She is told to lay her burden down
and stay within the sunshine
for a time. 

"Wayfarer,"
the Wise One says,
"your travel plans
have been changed.
You may rest upon the earth
a little longer, after all."

Astonished at her unexpected deliverance,
Traveler sinks down among the flowers,
looks around the sunny alpine meadow,
raises grateful eyes to the sky,
and awaits the unfolding
of yet another spring.

Beautiful Valley

[My sister, Lori, in Cherryville, great horseback riding country}

Traveler
has reached a plateau
from which she can gaze
far across
a beautiful valley.

There is room
under this expansive sky
to dream golden dreams.

There is enough space
all around
to relax one's shoulders
and breathe
the breath she needs,
to deeply inhale
the smell of sage and
tumbleweeds.

She feels like
spreading her wings
and swooping across
the land below,
like a golden eagle,
like a shooting star,
like a caged-up bird
longing to be
where her kinfolk are.

Traveler Takes Another Journey

[image from google - getoutzine.com]

Traveler is readying herself

to make another journey.

Her kit bag of memories

is stuffed beyond reason.

It nourishes her well,

but weighs more heavily

on her shoulders

with every passing season.

Her feet are moving forward

but her head keeps looking back.

There is knowledge from those times

that she still lacks.

She wants to find the spot

where the trail ahead

grew so much shorter

than the long way she had come.

The time when hopes and dreams,

songs left unsung,

stopped circling 'round,

slid into the past,

and Presence

became her only

standing ground.

The closer she gets

to taking leave of this world,

the more beautifully it shines.

How will she ever

close her eyes on it
one last time?

And those perfect

puffy clouds

against blue sky?

How they draw

her wondering 

bemused eye,

like a child's painting

of perfection,

each one

more lovely

than the last,

as the seasons

turn and change,
and far too quickly

hasten past.

The trouble with
this journey?
It has
an ultimate  destination,
she an unwilling passenger
who wants to keep on riding
beyond the final station.

Flying

[image from google]

Traveler

is packing

her kit bag

with gifts and necessities.

She is readying

her walking stick,

and calculating

how many

books

to carry along.

She has been

putting off

this trip

for too long:

too busy,

too many crises,

too tired.

But now

it is Time.

The plane

is on

the tarmac.

It is revving

its engines.

The windows

are ready

for cloud-gazing,

and for seeing

breath-taking

mountain ranges

from above,

and little tiny towns
small as a

 children's game.

Her eyes

are lifting up,

up,

from the minutiae

of daily existence

to beyond

the horizon,

where vision

expands

to the infinity

of possibilities

one life

can hold,

if we only

knew it

soon enough.

Soon,

very soon,

she will be

Flying.

Notes: I actually am making a quick trip by plane this coming weekend to see my son and daughter-in-law, Jon and Zenny, as well as my aunt and uncle. I havent flown since 1998 and, when I did, was transfixed by the sight of huge mountain ranges below, as beautiful as the Himalayas. I couldnt believe my fellow passengers were reading their newspapers, ho-hum. I could not take my eyes from the window.

So I am looking forward to that trip. But the words hold a double meaning, as my life is currently rearranging itself and creating change, as it seems to do every decade. I have felt the change coming, and have been readying myself for it. Change should bring more ease of spirit, as well as more time to write, and so I mean the flying analogy metaphorically, as well.

Song of the Sea

Day 25 of the Soul Card Journey
with Elizabeth Crawford of Soul's Music
Soul Cards by Deborah Koff-Chapin
at http://www.touchdrawing.com/

Perched on a cliff

above the sea,

Traveler communes

with the

midnight moon.

Bioluminescence

outlines

both sea

and shore

with a magical

radiance

she has never seen

before.

Traveler basks there

for a time,

feeling an

inner glow,

sea spray

welcome

on her face

as breakers

crash and churn

against the

blackened

rocks below.

Though she

must turn away

and leave

the sea she loves

behind,

 she carries

its song

within,

its waves

advancing

and retreating

forever

in her mind.

Traveler Sits By the Well

Day19 of the Soul Card journey
with Elizabeth Crawford at Soul's Music
Soul Cards by Deborah Koff-Chapin at http://www.touchdrawing.com/

Traveler's arms

have tenderly

cradled

babies

and lovers,

have nurtured life,

have comforted

and have set free,

holding close

then letting go.

Life is

a long series

of releasing:

those one loves,

those one

cannot keep.

Hopes and dreams

slowly

fall away,

transmute into

something else:

this life,

the daily

small miracles,

and the

wonder

all around us.

At some point,

Traveler

has learned

to love best

this strange

odd lump

that is

her life,

turning and

turning it,

viewing it from

every outlandish

angle,

checking out

the spots

where it shines,

rubbing others

that still need

some polish.

At the end

of this journey,

she will 

say goodbye

even to this:

all that has been,

for good or ill,

all the heartbreak,

all the cackling laughter,

all the hard and satisfying work,

all the holding on,

the letting go,

the gains and losses,

farewell to

the forests

and the deep blue skies,

to the mountains

and the moon,

to sunrises and sunsets

beautiful enough

to break your heart.

All will be gone.

No, she

will be gone,

incomprehensibly,

no more turning

and turning.

But, till then,

Traveler

sits by the well

and drinks deeply.

She drinks

her fill.