Alms For the Journeyman

Out beyond the strange hour, beyond the daydreams and doorways, beyond the first steps over cold and unforgiving ground, under constant attack of rain, out where sounds work their spells into devils, past the byways and frostbitten land, over silence and the dust of hollow winds where immensity begins and seeds draw in their sunlight, out where greed burns dry the prairie and morning comes to wake the sleepy battle, and perhaps our lines are thinner still, out onto the iron trails where we thirst for faster days it is remarkable to still feel the sweet familiar homeland, a place where prayer ascends and friends call out and there is a familiarity to all of this. Out, beneath the taste of salt and sweat of plow, there builds inside of us a fire and it grows with the risks we take; illumines our aloneness and our dark nights that pass like years. And for every shoulder we tear, for every bone we break, though we are not defined by our injury, we meet the miles. We are our finest journey, living and dying we meet the sand beneath our footsteps, we make and carve the mettle of our graves. We fill each distant minute with breath, with blood and faith, and deeds beyond all simplicity, We break our molds and stay our cause and return to that which makes us remnants of the finest stones.

Reviews

[Alisa Js]

There is a path that feels familiar, the only question for me is this...

Is that path one of self discovery or one of destiny?

Can we go home again, or is that welcome sensation among those certain hearts that care, home to us now???

I wonder....

Very nice, P... Very nice indeed.

Wishing you well.

Alisa ;-)

[Perdition]

And the only answer i could offer would be "yes. Thanks A. Looking forward to catching up~