I have a problem with backing down from a fight. As in, color of night. As in, wrong versus right.
Just as I am most admired as…an ambient, textured, landscape…that exposes blight.
Where the light and dark meet…
a hidden trail.
And, it is there, I believe I am free.
My notions and ideals enhance under the ambiance of flowing greenery.
Life is embellished in…sights unseen.
But of course, I am not a consultant to nature.
An adviser to the woods, I will never be.
Still for a fleeting moment…I am free.
I have heard tales about these shadows of doubt.
Quiet little backwoods knolls…
Where the secrets to life dance about.
Lurking among the ambient light,
saturating the will to fight.
I have stepped out to what appeared as my, last storm.
Braving the elements without my bitter, weathered, coat on.
It lay there in the contrasting shade.
Below the frozen peril…that I knew I belonged.