As I walk ….

And still I walk, knowing … With my mind, eyes, heart and spirit open; ready to receive what has been mandated.

Let me hear you… Let the din and the incessant hum of what can’t and won’t be far away from my orbit…

And still I walk, knowing, dutifully searching. Standing on the pier of life, savoring the gift that I have been given.

Let your presence be all encompassing and omnipresent … Let it echo; reverberate and drown out anything that would dare to challenge it.

Let my footsteps be the white noise on my journey…

Knowing that as I reach the apex of the journey, the path that you have laid… That I will hear nothing … Other than my focus.

Let … Me; have the ecstasy, the sheer intoxication of completion…

And still I walk, knowing.

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Surrounded by metaphors

Sometimes life makes me think of trees, in that when they are all grouped together we can’t make sense of them.

Sometimes they are imposing and indistinguishable from the others. Other times they lie in a path, serving as a impedement.

But…

Sometimes seeing them closer, apart from the collective of the forest… that individuality and distinctiveness becomes blantantly obvious.

Being here… Surrounded… And implicitly understanding that where I stand is metaphor for life.

Something for my headache

I entered uneasy with a dull throbbing pain  reverberating throughout my head and I began to walk. I was not naive to the fact that my walking was serving as a metaphor for the toxic build up from the week that was I found myself trying to escape from.

I soaked in the sights, sounds and smell to no avail… I heard a dull drone of cars in the distance, which served to increase the power of my headache and I continued on, like a man on a mission and decidedly so, because I am literally at my wits end.

As continued walking the fog and incessant throbbing in my head began to wane somewhat and I instinctively looked up to see the point of no return.

The area that nature forbade the intrusion of all things and elements foreign to her domain. The trees and her branches were welcoming and with a relative snap of the finger the headache was gone.

In lieu of the headache being gone a backlog of clarity descended upon me and washed away all that ailed me. So I found a spot in the middle of the stream where I sat, savored and fortified myself for whatever would see fit to obstruct my path in the coming week.

The mist and the cool sensation of the water