I walked through the birches by the river today. Overwhelming! The earth is stripped down to simple designs. The land has become a visual haiku. Sun on the fretwork of twigs. Blood droplets of rose hips clinging to the bushes. The chatter of the creek against trimmings of ice. The skiff of snow. My breath a white cloud like a departing soul... I have always been beguiled by birds. As if there was much they would tell me if they could, but they are only permitted to bear witness with their lives, their song.
With each step we arrive.
Ultimately, the journey of the human path is an individual effort; no one can do it for us. However, we are not entirely alone on this journey. Love and grace serve as guides to lead the way -- when we choose to listen.