2013 (c) Colleen Briggs
There is
a narrow deserted road,
path for wild winds
carrying traces of damp green
growing things,
tumbling around and through
you.
There,
tossing branches
flow from purple moonlit skies
into a quiet rumble in the earth below your feet.
It swells insistently by the moment.
Air pounds with intensity,
a growing living entity,
until at last across the fields you see –
silhouettes surging
at the crest of a midnight hill,
black horses…
until you are certain
you shall be softly sweetly trampled
Colleen Briggs Art & Writing 
A moment perfectly crafted by the Father to remind me that even in the difficult there is a sweetness to being “trampled”
Blessings friend, Jody
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Brillante!! Un abrazo
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Reblogged this on Espacio de Arpon Files and commented:
Excelente!!
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Thank you so much for your encouragement and for re-blogging! Many blessings to you.
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