The canyon bleeds, then deepens
and darkens ...
A sliver of white moon in the east.
Thin Light spills into the gorge
and the river sings an ancient song.
At the edge of shadow, night:
dark stone, pine scent, water,
cascading Light.
If we do not keep pace with our companions, perhaps it is because we hear a different drummer.Let us step to the music we hear, however measured or far away.