The blue-green spirit of late summer is fading.
The amber glow of autumn is drawing near.
Soon, something unseen will clutch at our collarbones and say:
You who are world-weary…walk with me.
Not far from here
down a winding road
is a crossing-over place.
When your feet shuffle through the veil,
the heaviness of these times skitters away
like one’s own wits
when too much time is spent
in the glass-and-metal world.
When you can’t keep up anymore, it’s a good place to go
to surrender to the seamless flow
where heart-mind and landscape remember their ancient oneness.
(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen (Wandering Stone Lantern) / purelandpoetry.com