The Journey

Traveling through a building storm we raise our eyes to the overcast, a blanket of dark. And through that blackness we search for the treasure of light a glimmer of hope and a lack of condemnation.

When billows of rage roll over our heads we travel on...bed partners with the storm with ourselves. We pray to gods of love and strength to send us saviors for our broken hearts and angels to comfort the dim in our souls. Will we find that which we search? With heads hung low we turn from the answer and travel on.

A day comes when the storm clouds part as a curtain expressing virgin beams of light across our journeys.

Stretched before us are fields of clay and behind us the wake of footsteps...the residue of our decisions... our mistakes... our triumphs.

We find ourselves in a journey with no beginning and no end. We sleep and wake inside each moment caressing each measure of time as a lover to the bossom of his beloved.

And as the day closes so do our eyes toward prayer... for mercy that we wake to another just outside the reach of the storm.

02-15-1999