Drops of Color/ On my Way…

Drops of Color
On my Way…

said the Pilgrim to the Mountain.

The Summit packed with snowfall
—countless feet in thickness.

Like goose down feathers
stuffed into a pillowcase…
the mountain stands.

The clouds encompassed her in the
early dawn of the day
but, as light rose
—the clouds moved in unison
like dancers whose performance
leaving the stage.

A Pilgrim traversed a narrow path,
at times the direction unclear.

In those moments,
the mountain spoke to the Pilgrim…

‘On my Way’

Together, they were not two
—they were twin peaks

summiting a World
of abundance beyond words.