Chasing Fireflies
The road, to the temples of Mount Hurago, was narrow, slowing climbing upward and flanked by magnificent trees. Trees, that seemed older, that seemed to hold tomes of history, within their branches and leaves. These trees seemed more of everything than the trees of my urban neighborhood. My eyes were plunged, captivated and caught in the
scattered light that found its way through the thickness. Small pleasing patches of yellow that illuminated the spirit with the same childish joy of chasing fireflies.I walked with a new born pace, in the place of centuries of soul seeking steps. All those, that had come before me. Each step, was an anticipation, a discovery of things known and unknown. This is the way, I thought to myself. This is the way we should learn to live, as if the next step will open the gates of purpose and direction.
Mount Hurago ~
autumn sun captures
a willing prisoner
Drunken Boat 2003.
Aha Poetry , reprint, 2003
