Come to me sweet Luna,
Carry my thoughts away into your peaceful light embrace,
Whisper to me of better days,
Days beneath the glow of a Spring sun that heals
With the sweetest kiss
Of a universe.
Come to me my moon,
Rest yourself above the sea
Reflect your magnificence upon my face
As I bask in the moment of calm
And your wind will wash me in its cleansing spirit,
A light that beckons to follow,
And a wave to wash at high tide
As you pull me into a better day,
I will walk in your shadow leaving silent indents on the sand
If only to remind you,
That I am saved by the sweet breath of midnight.
I sing praise to the life of the world
As it turns silently while we sleep and wake
I am refreshed in the scent of a solitary gardenia bloom as I pass,
Blessed truly, indeed.
This place lies so far across my country from where I am now. A magical place etched by time and the passing of water that moves endlessly down. Winding through stone, collecting debris with each passing storm, yet ever moving. Steps take us along, beginning at the top and moving down or the choice of starting low and rising, always the choice. We only move as fast as the slowest soul that creeps along in this magical place, crowds that stop to capture moments on their camera, or the photographer that sets up a workshop it seems to grab just that right image.
We are patient here. We wait and move one step at a time, so many of them, some slippery with the damp splashes of water, some dry and crumbling with the ghosts of a thousand steps before. We stare down and listen to the rhythm of the rushing water as it echoes all around us and we stare up at the narrow slice above where we can see the blue of the sky watching us down below.
This place draws in the people young and old and as you watch the water rush by behind a waterfalls, you feel as if you are a part of this world, this place. Every step you climb you feel your breath coming faster, so many steps, and the muscles of the legs ache when you think you can go no farther, around the bend more steps descend and you smile as a new view lights your mind and as the sun slowly begins to go down you know the time is now to finish the final steps, to let the moving water rest undisturbed from view and to let the night creatures take over and walk your steps unencumbered.
Image taken at Watkins Glen, out in the finger lakes of New York a few years back. A wonderful wine country, scenery to die for and a place of moving water that bids you to stop and stay a while.