Thursday, April 22, 2010

    "Death, is a very strange term, it has habit with loss and fear, set aside to warrant distraction of it's true meaning and deemed tragic.  To the cycle of breath and the walk, as to nourish in fare, then death be renamed, as I journey on, in my 'solo' drift, I name death as a river ceases and flowers start.  I welcome the journey across the tundra, to take sense of it, as I am of it, welcomed by it.  The length of it and the sky above it, keep me.  It does now as I live in smallest of it.  It continues in my change as the ice comes and the berries are dried, I too enter the season, my trail will return to me."

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful, Bill, images and words. Are those wintergreen berries? I loved to eat them along our trails in the woods as a child.