A Painting

I walked tonight with my spirit holding my hand... it beckoned me forward through muddy trails along the lakes glimmering edge. So intent on moving forward, reaching almost... to enjoy and savour... the senses ahead... I lost track of where I had come from... where I had been...that I would turn at times and laugh at the course I had taken. My footprints were originally distinct and sharp ..... later washing in the mud like fluffy contrails which dissolve in the vast cerulean sky. Both leaving no indication a presence had been.

Laying in the tall greening grasses, close to the ground to avoid the breeze, I was warmed by the setting sun casting a yellowish glow on the conifers surrounding me. Imagining my contrail faded... existing only at this point ... at this moment.... I wondered what colour I was as I blended into the landscape. Eyes closed... hues of rich earthy colours were felt but they changed and radiated.... seemingly surrounded by a blanket of whiteness. I struggled and strained to hold the moment.... trying to walk around it and touch it but could not, it pinned me to the ground as if I was meant to absorb it... like it was painting me.

Strange as all this sounds.... and though I've not the contrail to show.... something magical happened. The wind like a paintbrush carried the colours of all that is beautiful, all that is positive and all that I needed back into the canvas of my soul..... I noticed the trees waving when I returned.