Passing Point
By Peter Scott
Pictures forming
Patterns merging
A view engulfs
Where once there was nothing
From the mountain peak I gaze
Sitting high above
Ultra-violet streaming
Birds chirping
Lush green bookends
Sandwiching a beautiful mist
Hovering intermingled
Playing with the day
Early convictions muddled
The image cries out to me
All the thoughts
All the feelings
Swirling together
Joined by exterior friends
The plane flies on
Contrary
Contradicting the rain
Ugly scars removed
Soaring now with hope
A time near distant
Wingless and in a burning heap
Reassured
Yet warned I sit
Watching from the ridge
The breeze now cool
Calm
Happy
To spoil I must choose
Decisions in the sand
Defaced through my own blood
The valley beckons
When to go?
Who to travel with?
A perilous journey down
Companions must be true
Interlocking emotions
Like spirits
Thoughts different crossing
Like shoelaces
Hesitantly I walk
A furry animal by my feet
A morning bird calls
But I relentlessly move
Now toward
An even greater prize
Face to face he said
Then turned instead
Held by the earth
Muscle forced soil
Light like feather
The sound pierced
He looked around
Tasted
Knew however sadly...
