Guided by the lights

The smell of burning ambered cedar as I drive through castle mountain and Crowsnest Pass I roll down my window more and picture a campfire so pure so clean. The reds the blues and whites of the flame. The rite of passage at the peak takes me to the destination. Ahhhhh home at last, my heart releases a tension that has built up so high, the frustrations, the stress, they all escape the open window to the crisp cool air, so fresh, so new, so forgotten. My senses are overloaded by release of burdens that I carry. The fog setting in, closing the light of day. The blanket of clouds covering what I miss the most in the distance. Dawn has turned into dusk turned into dark with no warning. You find the key to an unknown place planned for weeks. The tree line invites you for a stroll; the smell of winter, but stopped by the wilderness night stalkers that pray. You venture into their trap; you have outsmarted them this time as they retreat into the darkness and you into the light. I can’t wait to explore, find the water flowing over the falls the steam from the hot springs the ice and snow twinkling in the day light. Over all the beauty and glory that awaits me. O how I’ve missed the mountains and green lush environment I used to call home. Guided by the lights of the pavement you slip in and out of the shadows of the night. Feeling welcomed by the darkness you find comfort in the deep calmness that asks you to come in. The tears that fill the iris, blinding your vision. Your screaming inside but nothing comes out no one can see you or hear you. Its like a tunnel that winds and winds with no end. Overhead lights, politics of the wrath bore you to no end. Sensations fading into feelings. Feelings fading into sadness for your hand can only go so far. You clear the iris and gaze into what appears to be a black book found on the pavement. Do I open it? Should I leave it? Is this it? You don’t want to but you should because there is emptiness in what you seek and darkness where you stay. Your independence is crippled by the thoughts and actions of what to do next. Becoming a race, will you ever see the finish line? What awaits in there? What is more important? Scolding waters of clarity? Disappointing evidence? The chilling of the thin air un-seeable by the naked eye your soulless entity flips open the book and finds a mysterious message that says “it’s your turn to thrive in this world. Choose wisely”. Behind the paper reads you are gifted $20,000. The message first stabs you in the heart of honesty then released by the truth. You repeat the message but in a question; is it my turn to thrive in this world? Is this treasure for me? That’s for you to decide. Angels come and angels go, this one makes you realize moments will never be the same. Not before not after. Tonight I exposed my mind trusted and allowed my inner-self to free the discipline I've trained to never give. Why now? Why this intellect? Is it because patience is a virtue? Have I trusted there is nothing more in return? Researching my senses, they are the givers you see in yourself the giver you've been longing for. They are blind by the tears they give you because you are heavily guarded, yet your strength grows with each sunrise. The thought of this never blossoming into something more sooner saddens your mind. you know why but there is a lesson to be learned here. Creativity is a learned obsession. You get better with the distance of this arrangement, you learn to accept it for what it is but your mind your emotion your vacant affectionate autonomic wants more then you can give. Next time you say next time.