Traveler

Here I sit upon the mountain top.

Signs of her sheer brilliance swirling around me.

She comes to me in-between the spaces and the stillness.

Ever so lightly she knocks on the door of my soul.

I am comforted by the rhythm of her knocking.

Welcoming her into the beauty of my land.

She ignites the taste of my yearning.

As my words sprout like fragrant flowers.

Creating my sacred bouquet.

There we dance.

Among the colorful petals that cover the floor of my land.

                                         Barbara J. Lager