Tuesday, August 25, 2009
It is dusk and the last light
of the day falls from the sky.
All you have seen, all that is familiar
fades to black,
and the paths you were once sure of
and the temptation is to stop
and let the night's cold
fold over you,
to build a small fire to push back the night,
where you can warm yourself,
the journey beckons
and you understand that time is fading
as sure as the sunset,
that there are at times, reasons
to walk into the indigo night,
no matter the fear,
for somewhere beyond your sight,
someone waits for you,
the warmth and light of their heart
and home, beckoning
like the nightingale's song.
The picture was taken near Rupert, Vermont. You can click on it for a larger version.