Archive
09/17/10 - (2)
Migrating North
I slip out of the city, this mid-September Friday, Like an invisible mist of nonexistence, And disappear into the particulates of chilly sunrise's lifting light. This quintessence of unconditional liberation exhilarates me. My migratory psyche, So often shackled to quotidian disciplines, pedestrian rituals, Flies in an ever-widening spiral, As if its wings might never tire of flapping, gliding, Rather transport its craving for transcendence To nature's sublime heights, From which, in this lifetime, anyway, I'll never descend, As long as my passion can perpetuate, unfettered, What's been a seemingly endless rapture of retreats To my Lake Nebagamon cabin, at shore's border.
09/17/10 - (2)
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