something stirs in me
a bridge, veiled in mist
and shadow,
painted by a lakeside fragrance
and a temple
singing through its crumbling hollows
where only the wind
is left to worship
something echoes through the waves
leaving whispers in its wake
I walk the lonely path
unafraid,
not alone
My past is watching,
primal breath is stirring,
clouds gather in my bones
as I sit upon this rock,
press my hand against the ground,
feel the earth beneath my feet
forever changing,
a restless dance
of what once was
and what will always be
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beautiful.
