The Path by Candice Feldman The path waits in ripening silence,
As an eagle soars overhead spreading its wings.
Supported without acknowledgement,
My footprints fall loosely along the gravel.
The pungent smell of moist eucalyptus folds the air.
Seasons of peeled bark nurture the ground.
Light pauses,
Its moments carefully counted.
Everything here is in constant change,
Yet always seems the same,
As the days of my life slowly turn one into the other.
I too am constantly changing,
Yet something in me remains the same,
A thread I can barely touch,
Yet recognize its presence.
Some part of the eternal flows through the atoms of who I am.
This quiet merging with the ground arises filling my awareness.
We hear each other's voice without a sound,
And I'm welcomed into its solitude,
As the silence between us begins to sing.
The path ends where the sand meets the water's edge,
And the crashing waves tumble us into ecstasy,
Where my inner and my outer journeys collide.
Oh wow,
Thank you Candice,
Incredible.
Thank you to you,
Thank you listener,
Thank you dear Brian.
We love you.
Let's do more.
Let's love first.
Much love,
And then some more.
Thank you.
