It’s only “following” if there aren’t enough trees
I drive along the sallow, sagging marshes to a place sunk in the ocean on a mountain lifted by pines and the strange dependability of time, who stands still for no one except those who walk here.
This place is not somber but ever rejoicing in its stillness as a heavy breeze blows a salted fog through the trees who stand shameless and unabashed in their angular, leafy loyalty, protecting the shadows and the light as equals. It is here where I walk to spend time with the one who is always here and never there, always with me wherever I go and seldom apart from this foggy bog. His mystery is familiar and foreign, just as each crunch leaves a unique tone and timbre in this quiet place, very much alive, but filled with those subtle rhythms who are always right on time.
You, as each bird swoops low through this grey cover, are ever punctual and ever silent, translucent, and honest.
There is a Spirit here who strolls by my side, lurking just at the corner of my sight, ever present and out of reach, forever following and never leading, but wishing me toward his reach.
Many a journey this long would tire me, but this grey ash is as friendly as it is fierce, and the moss softens this space from any harms as tiny creatures teem in their happy space near the beach. No amount of tall grass or sinking stream could tear me away, and as it were, neither could it you.
You are the spirit who strolls by my side, lurking just at the corner of my sight. You grow closer to me and weave yourself around my warm form, leading me onward
Onward and upward to a cliff made from pointed trunks and roots of stone to a place where the waves are crashing into their own ocean of fog, where grasses and aged rock churn into a blue portal where none can enter, and we can only watch
And I can only enjoy here that is is where you are able to whisper to me the only things I need hear for another year yet, enough to power me around the world and, at long last, back this place, where I may hear your voice once more
“You are enough”
For this I know, but it is from you a gift sweeter than all the stars as it it you who held my heart when you soared up to them, and it is your rendering that I cannot forget
And so you are the spirit who strolls by my side, lurking just at the corner of my sight, ever present and out of reach, forever following and never leading, but watching carefully over me to all the places I journey, never apart from me, but your voice always here, until
The one day I awake and hear your soft murmuring, only to discover myself among the stars with you.












