Blessed be the Wanderers

Blessed be the wanderers,
one foot in front of the other,
gathering stones,
apricot and green-veined crown of thorns,
railroad tracks leading onward,
dead ends and heart-shaped leaves,
crunch underfoot and falling off the path.
Yet grounded.
Balance unnecessary,
the path supports.

Blessed be the path,
the winding one,
and stones, thorns,
random driftwood drifting.

Blessed be drifting on.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019


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