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The In-Between
Jan. 7th, 2022 10:59 amI suppose I could yearn for mountains and big sky, yet in the terrain in-between
there are these stills that well up in me: soaked mulchy brown this that spills with knowledge of home into lusty gorges that lie below deeper than any memory could ever manage to embrace the edge of this trail shows its last bits of snow meander
Inexorably, everything springs forth home from here
In this way life and death are much the same even in difference, neither is easy but both are made easily of love and memory
and as the texture of tree bark
This is where I grew.
there are these stills that well up in me: soaked mulchy brown this that spills with knowledge of home into lusty gorges that lie below deeper than any memory could ever manage to embrace the edge of this trail shows its last bits of snow meander
Inexorably, everything springs forth home from here
In this way life and death are much the same even in difference, neither is easy but both are made easily of love and memory
and as the texture of tree bark
This is where I grew.
