Finding what was buried within.

As I back up my old photo’s to the Cloud.

I was drawn to this set of photographs, it was significant because it was during this walk that I wrote my first piece of poetry.

It was a organic act that unfolded without much fanfare.

As I walked through this area of Gunpowder Falls this past December.

I was accompanied by nothing other than the crunching of the snow beneath my feet and feeling as if I was impervious to the elements that seemed to say…

“You will freeze, you will regret not having those gloves that you forgot at home.”

But, I was looking for something that I eventually found.

Peace of mind, solace.

So, I walked.

Discovering a layer that I didn’t know I possessed.

Not to say that my poetry is any good, but it is the act of creating it, that makes me feel empowered and that is more important that any accolade I could ever receive.

Gunpowder Falls

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Savoring the flashback

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Years ago, if someone told me that I’d be an addict for wandering throughout the confines of nature, I would have been inclined to laugh heartily in their face.

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If I was told that I would find piece of mind and a weapon to defeat the anger and malaise that would sometimes envelope me in their cold embrace, their dialogue would’ve been met with a blank stare.

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I walk, sometimes not knowing where I’m going, but knowing that I will reach my end goal of being inspired and empowered.

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Sometimes when I can’t walk into Mother Nature’s embrace, just indulging one of my senses is just enough.

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Sight has the ability to bring the other senses to a happy medium.

So I flip through my directory of travels.

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And…

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A simple exhale is sometimes, more than enough

Borrowing a cup of solace

The cascading sounds of water flowing downstream, over the rocks on a mission.

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To fulfill its calling, undeterred, unhindered, unimpeded.

Far be it for me to impose and take a serving of solace from this place, but I must.

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Being connected is toxic, draining and hazardous to my health.

The actions that I am taking is far greater than mere insertion, it is soul survival and self preservation of the highest order.

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Being here is medicinal… Healing the fractured confines of my psyche.

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As I download my burdens and drown them in the currents, I rejoice in their end.

As I continued on – A walk in Gunpowder Falls

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It began innocently enough… I’ve walked this path many times before, casting my burdens by the wayside as I walked.

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It was the calm before the storm…  And it was apparent that I was the only person along this stretch of the park, I walked without any sense of urgency.

I placed my gloved hands inside my jacket pockets to keep them warm,  after a few minutes I discovered that my normal route was flooded and frozen over.

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What to do?

I walked gingerly and listened to the ice buckle and crack under my feet. It eventually gave way and I gave a silent thank you to waterproof boots as I continued on.

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I was at this point in the trail when I reached the solace point.

And…

The forest enveloped me in her icy embrace that I was impervious to, thanks to my internal thermal garments.

So, I continued on.

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The beauty of winter is often underrated, as the cold reveals the terrain for what it is…

The majesty of the cliffs that jut out from the landscape are magnetic.

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The power of the stream rushing to my right refuses to succumb to a fate of ice, being still isn’t what it aspires to.

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I look up & wonder about the vantage point from the cliff…. I pause, before continuing on.

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I reach a point in the forest where I usually ford the rocks to get to the other side only to find that it is covered by a layer of ice…

I see a future on me on my ass, which is a deal breaker.

No options, so I continue on… Discovering a path to my left.

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I’m not ready to turn back because I haven’t acquired what I came here to get. I look upstream to see if there is another way across.

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I follow this path and I kick  myself for not discovering this route previously…

And… I continue on.

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The sound of the water rushing by insulates me from numbness spreading into my fingers.

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I’m compelled to reach back to grab my camera, rabidly removing my gloves to snap pictures as I continue on.

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The rush of the water is growing in volume… Filling my ears with the splendor of the sound.

So I continue on…

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I wasn’t prepared for what was over the hill…

Undaunted, I continued on…

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Here lies another set of waterfalls that I was oblivious to… I made my way down to the stream and absorbed the divine. My appendages weren’t cold, but were pulsating with the warmth of divine intervention.

I didn’t want to continue on…

But I did.

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The icy embrace of winter made its presence felt as I continued on.

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How had this segment of the park slipped through my fingers after all of these years I wondered.

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As I walked, I felt free, unburdened, unencumbered and I felt a smile creep over my face.

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And I continued on…

Content after finding what I was looking for…

A slice of solace, piece of mind, a hug from the Almighty.

Looking out, looking past and grabbing the realization

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As I stood on the shore I looked out at the horizon, cognizant of the chilled air that was being warmed in my lungs and exhaled back into the world.

Realizing…

That my standing here was a metaphor of sorts.

My looking out at the horizon, past where I stood at the water’s edge.

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Stood something I could see, but it was seemingly…

Out of reach … But, this short-sighted observation only tells half of the story.

Why should I limit myself to constructing barriers to what can’t be done, versus finding ways to traverse those barriers?

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The memory is short and it allows me to forget my triumphs, when my slipping into the icy depths of defeat were but a formality.

But, I found stepping stones when others saw an impasse.

Why should comfort be taken in the penitentiary of “can’t” when “shall, can and will” have more upside?

Why outrun the answer?

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Sometimes being still and drifting away from that which you feel compelled to find a solution for is the answer.

I’ve realized that “looking” for “it” has not paid dividends.

It is my contention via the humble act of paying attention or the conscious state of “Being Still” that patience will enable that hard sought clarity to come into our respective orbits.

I sat here, shivering slightly, knowing that I discovered something that hadn’t been eluding me, but something that I had run from, willingly.

Now, I need for it to catch up and wait I shall.

And we wonder … Why?

This is going to be one of the shortest pieces that I’ve written, as it is just a simple observation.

It is the sad realization that people seem to be more in tune with Reality TV history versus World, American history and the like as it is these pivotal issues that truly impact us.

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And we have the audacity to scratch our heads in befuddlement. When many look up to the empty headed characters on our television screens instead of the giants of history.

Words are a fortress

Words…

Are abundant … But quality trumps quantity.

Used wisely,

They.

Comprise, compliment, buttress …. Empower.

And serve as a fortress.

From those obstacles that would otherwise separate one from what lies on the horizon…

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Of

Progression …

Pouring the marinade … On life.

Life is littered with disappointments …

But it is the disappointments that serve as the marinade

To what could otherwise be a bland, tasteless existence

For it is an essential ingredient of life

That sinking feeling of disappointment, the suspense leading to the culmination …

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The aftermath

of

should, could and would have’s

are the perfect companion to the gloom and morose

But..

Without it…

How could one truly appreciate

how it contrasts with the euphoric feeling …

Of YESSSSSS!

Me happy on a cliff in Hawaii

Me happy on a cliff in Hawaii

The realization of success

which

links to the

acquisition of our respective conquests.