Somewhere between light and dark and the swells of living, I can see through the horizon and settle near a glacial lake.
When I can, I visit for what seems like hours; really it’s minutes.
Time often bends the rules.
It’s a place surrounded by mountains and meadows and deep midnight blue waters; lupine and windflowers start to bloom. It’s a multifaceted landscape, able to navigate the surface tension of my thoughts.
I plunge deeply and find oxygen in crevices shielded by granite.
I rest here and nearly drift into a full stop.
Breathing gets a little softer and questions dwell in the pause and wink of it all.