"The Wandering Soul"
In this magic hour of softening light
The moments in between the day and the night
The instant when all shadows disappear
The distance in between the love and the fear

There's a longing deep within the wandering soul
It's like the half that understands it once was whole
Like the two who only dream of being one
Like the moon whose only light is in the sun

There's a danger in forever looking outside
You start to believe that all your prayers have been denied
And you forget the sound of your own name
And thus begins the suffering and the pain

I wanted an answer, I wanted a way
I wanted to know just what to do and what to say
I wanted a reason, I want(ed) to know why
Can there never be heaven right here on Earth and peace inside

Inside my heart
Deep in my soul
Within each part
And in the whole

There's a promise in the journeys of the mind
You begin to believe that there are miracles you will find
And that someday you'll remember who you are
The seed within a bright and shining star

That's like the flame that lives within a hungering heart
That only awaits a gift of love for it to spark
Into a fire that burns forever, endlessly
Like the river that can't help but meet the sea

In this magic hour between the dark and the dawn
In the space between the silence and the song
Suddenly the mystery is clear

Looks Like We Made IT!!

There is a fog this morning, so thick that if not for the lights I wouldn’t be able to see.  Answering some inner longing, I’ve returned to my summer lake.  It is invisible beneath the mist, beyond my perception.  I will remain here though; I need to see what happens.  Memory tells me the sun will burn away this ground level cloud and it will evaporate.  Yet there is doubt.  After years of perpetual hope, I sit in a state of disbelief.
This fog is getting deeper in spots now, closing in, rolling over and hiding the outline of trees on the shore.  I turn on the car so that I will be visible, should anyone else venture here this morning, needing to see it happen.  An hour passes.  The shoreline seems to be coming into focus.  What at first look to be moving mounds of lake grass turn out to be geese, hunting for breakfast.  Life goes on despite the density.

Perhaps that’s the message by the lake here this morning.  I still cannot see the sun yet I’m beginning to trust it is there.  There seem no other options.  Ever human, this desire for dramatic show burns deep.  It is not to be, yet a gradual picture emerges slowly from within the clouds.  Life and perception will not be denied.