Running through the ice and ambush of it all the old traps that hold us back and make us prone to fall – the internal chase deepens, seeking to pull out the dormant parts within..

Trailing behind
They want to see me burn
Wither and turn
Around the bend
I’m already lit
My own fires- leaving contrails

Running hard got to stay ahead of the  criticism and ridicule.  The beliefs I hold, old, new and foreign to most, make the world a magical but at times lonely place. They still burn you for practicing magic and alchemy. So keep them hidden, buried in briefcase, spells, prayers and formulas, encoded in a loose mess of papers and scrap.

Ran beyond the dam and back log,

Past the chimney fires and foot prints,

Forked off and forged ahead,

Getting warmer,

Shedding fresh tracks on the untraveled

Nearer now,

Closer to home.

Filled with the scents of cedar, minding the mountain, crisp air and fallen trees, giving feet and legs their fill today, they’ll ache with eager stories to tell in the morning.

Keep the furnace warm,

The body with, is against me,

The sweat crystallizes,

separating water and salt,

wrapped in a frozen shell,

I shed the layer- it’s a race now

To slow down, the cramps will come,

The cold will swallow,

And the crowds will follow

To put out my fire.

Coming down the mountain

This moment

Would share it with anyone who could hear them,

Would the words but fall upon ears that could make use of them

Maybe I’ll run into another fool,

chased by point of torch and  fork,

Brave enough to keep their natural soul,

Intimate and familiar

with ancient uncorruptable heritage

Now displaced by what’s been built upon it

They’re more rare than a hope’s chance,

Hope is not enough to fuel me.

I run in pursuit of self. At best you get lucky, and find someone to keep your pace, and match your fire. Dimming and slowing will bring you down. They are not worth risking iron shackles and hangman’s noose.

But, so rich is this moment and alone still it’s magic,

Alone it will do for now.