If you walk with me, you are welcome --
though I cannot guarantee the content of our time.
My vision shifts with sun and shadows,
rage and fondness,
sleep and waking.
Colors fade, bleed, explode,
sounds ebb, deafen, sing and cajole.
When I walk, I see little with my eyes
because the world reveals more
than eyes can see.
If you walk with me,
the words will spill and I cannot contain them,
though I will not speak them.
The voices whisper,
and I must listen,
though not with my ears.
My road is full even when empty,
and sometimes I must pause,
Breathe,
Perch upon a bleached stump
in the heat or rain.
Take note. Take stock. Take time.
Confirm I am hearing the truth so my words are honest.
If you walk with me,
you must not be content, but you must be
intrepid.
You must be at ease with the knowledge
that each step could lead to the abyss.
But if you walk with me…
…oh the things we'll discover.
If you walk with me.