On the Path of Life

This time of year has me contemplative on cycles and transitions, and those who have come before. Today, as I stirred in the liminal space between sleep and awakening to this world, someone wanted to speak. Here are the words we composed together.

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I stand at the fork of two paths
Between life and life
From this height everything looks like destiny
Just as it did down below
Where we met, in the the sky
On the river of dreams
Where our reflection seals a memory
A smile whispers of pain and pleasure
And our words fall short of what we feel
Intentionally, maybe…this place is dangerous
And intoxicating
And necessary
Because this is where we have kept our legacy
In the womb of our mother
In the care of the storytellers
In the library of bones
In the creatures of the stars
Take my hand and walk with me
One more time
On the path of life

[image credit: Negative Space]