To find a mountain cabin.
To go there to listen, walk the trails, revel in its forest.
To sit among old logs, the musk of ashes from long ago
Winter fires in a large stone hearth.
To be…still.
Thunder, rain, rivulets running down the stones
Converging in pools; to know the rhythm
Of Earth again.
To want to give again,
To feel filled-up in heart as well as mind.
Body waits return of soul.
Susan Feathers 