Fill the pages with
words and stories.
Fill our lives with
people and events.
Stories to tell our children.
Words to light our journey.
Life is short and precious.
It is our right to fill in the pages.
journey
NOT THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD
Source:whitechapelwitch
NOT THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD
This is not the yellow brick road
leading to fantasies.
This is the road
determined by your choices.
You must chart its course
and deal with the twists and turns.
A ride of a lifetime
to be dealt with wisely.
THE LIGHT
I reach for it.
I clench my fist.
But I can’t grasp it.
It flows through my fingers,
continuing its journey.
Nothing can stop it.
Nothing can hold it.
I drop my hand,
and bow my head to it.
ICY COLD
Ice Fire
Cold.
Icy cold.
My toes feel numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue.
The view waits for me.
A few more steps.
Silence wraps its arms around me.
I raise my face to the sky.
The colors take my breath away.
READY, SET, GO
We’re moving faster.
We’re getting closer.
It waits
Patiently.
We can’t stop.
We have no control.
When the time comes,
We must be ready.
THE JOURNEY
The mist follows close at my heels,
Relentless in its pursuit.
Roots poke through the ground.
Tree limbs grab at me.
The fog clears.
The forest ends.
I’ve reached the clearing.
He waits for me.
A black stallion is his ride.
I grab his extended arm.
He lifts me behind him.
We ride like the wind.
I sigh and turn my head.
A scream is lodged in my throat.
His face isn’t of my loved one
but a mask of death.
We ride like the wind
to the ends of the earth.
Hell’s gates shut behind us.
No one is knocking on its doors.
AN ELECTRIC STORM
Let’s scale the heights.
Be careful of the crevices.
The deep valleys.
The empty holes.
Climb the next ridge.
Enter through an opening.
Small as a fly.
Hear the blood pound.
The synapses sizzle and pop.
Journey through the darkness.
Through the unknown.
Exhilarating as an electric storm.
Colorful as a fireworks display.
A ride through space and time.
