soft leaves, brown and silver line my steps and bed a log old, moss growing as darkness against new light green shrooms. there they emerge in layers scalloped, as if immersed in deep blue water. i stop, and wonder if I would have noticed them if I wasn’t alone, if I was distracted by chatter without real meaning or importance and at that moment, i am filled. my steps continue soft and light, alone.
Grounded Wisdom 