happening upon
a sacred sandstone scene
not seen coming
not intended
now illuminated
through blindness of modernity
mother nature's sweat lodge
floating and fleeting
soaring to sourcing
consciously sharp to the present
each sweatdrop, each heartbeat,
each wisdom
there are one, then two
then ten thousand
not passingly noticed
but known intimately
petroglyphs etched into
mind body soul

Saw  a  obituary  in  the  newspaper
of  a  long  lost  friend.

I,t  hit  me  off  the  page.
Like  an  arrow  through  my  heart.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.

Grace behind the door
For all
If we persevere aware
Patience is the key
Patience is the key