Mile Marker 33
Dawn sits on the edge of the moon
purple light drifting over the mountains
ridged crags cold beneath the fading stars
asleep you lay as the elk call
puffs of steam rising as they bugle the sun
all else is quiet then. waiting to usher in
the golden lights first rays of warmth.
calling to move, to go, to start, to carry on.
Where am I from here? I’ve left behind so much…
yet there is more ahead. I look before me and do
not go back. I will not carry this on the journey,
a history of death and decay. for the choice is mine,
is it not?
and, asleep in the bed you lay as light spills
each creature into existence. again its calling
calling to move, to go, to start, to carry on.
time rushes upon the darkness and its swallowed
as too the frost recedes from the edges dazzling,
and gone. while the low sweeping mist lifts from
the ground to rejoin the clouds. Another elk
calls summoning the rise.
Awaken from your dreams, arise with the fire.
I will move, I will go, I will start, I must
carry on past the next mile marker.
