Meander

There is power in meandering

winding wondering

to the center of the soul

where the monsters live.

We cling, instead, to strong straight paths

with measured steps and certain destinations,

where we suppose the thing called safety

waits for us.

But

Isn’t it in the dreaming of days,

the spinning of tales,

the tracing of

paths

of

rain

drops

down

                        long    

window

panes

that

create

some

thi

n

g

n

e

w

where we learn

what we have always known

©2007 Donna Jo Wallace.