from an evolving collection entitled Sun Lake Moon


End of another week.

Solid-heeled in our walking.

Yet there is a fatigue

only resting-deep can remedy.

Resting-deep

as mountains after rain

before the song of fog sets in.

We step out the door

with all the invisible ‘ride-alongs’

who travel with us.

We fan out

scramble over rocks

hunt a soul-filled place

to sit with the half-moon.

To outside eyes you appear

as a solitary walker of green hills.

But the Immortals know you

and see you

hunting

digging deep

until you hit

that hidden spring

that’s waiting

inside you.


(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Navigating the Flow / Endless River / Roy Mattson

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