Go into the mist

cliffsIMG_7111 2


Go into the mist


Where the great light falls


Where blue flowers gleam


In the winds of dawn,


And the owl calls


Softly, in her deep tone.


Go into the wild where


The one with no name tells a luminous tale


Of the star forest.


Out onto the green hills of peace,


Go where the mists of the mountain meet,


Where the unkempt stream


Grows out of the tall cliffs of stone,


Where the bright feet


Of the moon


Skip on the winged waves of the water, glimmering,


Where mystical geese sail


Along the snow-enchanted trail


Back to the beginning,


To before the great scattering —


Fragmented, broken,


Back to where only the silver song of the loon,


Clear in the white night,


Sings to the peace beyond the realms of being.



© 2015, Sharon St Joan, photo and poem


Leave a Reply