Reaching For A Heaven We Already Hold In Our Wandering Hearts
A pilgrimage across
to your bright eyes,
to my curiosity's survey.
follow our bushwhacked,
beaten back, Braille deer paths -
they inform the light breaking above, upon, beyond
the ridge our compass thoughts desire to reach before dusk.
The trees stand with their crucified limbs before us
reaching for a heaven we already hold in our wandering hearts.