Collecting One's Self, by Clayton Parrish

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Selection 6 of

Collecting One's Self

by Clayton Parrish

This morning
The sunlight and shadows dance across the echoes within
The unspoken, unfelt emotions
Where words couldn't reach, to reveal an oasis in time.

As I walk along the bank,
A light breeze catches the faint wisp of fresh cut grass.
The trees reach out with thousands of hands,
Calling out so clearly
To gently urge me to come closer.

Clouds parade by,
Announcing the babble of the river,
Tumbling headlong across the ancient stones of time,
Searing deep into our soles.

The air throbs with the songs of our ancestors,
Rejoicing to the coming of the morning dew,
Collecting on the leaves before rolling off,
Bursting into silvery diamonds and melting into the river of life.

I stand and dream,
Repeating what so many have done before us
When the world is so very peaceful, so quiet, so special.

The misty curtains part,
Igniting a fiery desire to wade in
And hold onto life for all it's worth.

For a moment
The wall between us dissolves,
Exposing invisible threads of life,
Giving us a measure of certainty.
I turn the page.

Selection 6 of

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