A narrow path emerges from the shadows of winter skeletons.
Their fallen kin, line the way to a distant sun drenched clearing.
Although I can see it, and even convince myself I can feel the opening up of space around me, there is a way to go.
Leaves crunch underfoot, reminding me that this narrow strip to salvation is paved with the bones of last season’s losses.
The path beneath them is still slick, longing to turn my world upside down.
Maybe the world is already on its head. Perhaps that is why it seems so far to freedom.
I am grateful for the hope of that clearing and the ones who walk this trail with me.
We continue on, I do my best to walk mindfully. Kissing the earth with each step I take.
My only wish to walk another season under these watchful bows, into an unsure future.