M. Aline

drifting in the wind

the smell of primrose and mint

can you walk the distance

trapped in the swirling storm of the wilderness

silence amidst the chaos

seeking refuge on hollowed ground

facing whosoever cometh forth

the fight against darkness

is not a fight that can be seen

but a fight that is ghostly

hidden amongst the village

of the weak

those who call upon Him

shall win the victory

tender love and warmth

embraced with grace and mercy

trail among the wilderness

without letting go

of the time to come

soar among the clouds

the faint scent of evergreen and pine tree

across the bridge and into the field

is where a meadow finds rest

with a stream of transparency

a honey dripping ecstasy

the utmost serene escape

from reality