Dark Misty Meadow

harmony with nature, reflective

Still dark, the sun sleeps long this time of year
The land was dark and the morning mist fell in tiny droplets
At the crest of the hill, I stop, I listen
At the crest of the hill, I pause, I reflect
Then a breeze blew upon my ear, kissed my cheek,
brushed cool lips on my neck
What are you looking for, she asked, silent and chill
Cows, the herd, I look for what pertains to me, I said
which she dismissed
Then she asked again, still silent, still chill, still the breeze upon my skin
What are you looking for?
Then I replied, my whole self electrified and buzzing
I look for thee, the voice with no ear
I long to find the words of the land
The voice of meadows full of mist
The place where all things meet, in being and speech
I saw my treasure in the dark and misty meadow