storm clouds gather.
frogs bubble & croak in the vlei below.
alone outside, all lights off except the fire of creation before me.
warming my bare shins & crossed knees.
trains shunt, shreek, tear in the yard below as this village settles down for weekend. and peace. and silence.
birdsong.
an odd dog's bark in the distant.
a beetle vibrates quickly past the fine hairs of my ear.
cricket. cricket. cricket. a backdrop of
this time alone, before a fire, a glass of wine, meat in lemon juice & black pepper inside the house to marinate: a deep & restful content.
i have only dreamed of this before.
and now it's in both hands.
I know the plans I have for you.
just for me to more firmly grasp the overflowing cup of faith.
to sleep in silence and fresh air.
no longer fear i hades, nor all the rings of despair.
this pilgrim lays his head.
warrior of light.
071130
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