I keep a journal most everyday. It is thick, like a book. It is a clay brown with flowers and vines that can be traced with your fingertips, and a leather vine to bined it. inside there are drawings writings, pictures, prayers, insanities and the truth. It is my life. So I give you a small peice of my life.
Febuary 21st
I went to my spot in the woods today. When I'm up there I feel peaceful. As I walk up the hill I take the long way instead of the shortcut, spiraling around the hill passing the veiw of the entire city asking God, christ and his spirits to walk with me to ensure I am in peace when I reach my destination. Once there, I have faith I won't be disturbed by passer-by's of the trail. I rest under the small canopy of twisting vines and budding branches. I decided this time to take off my shoes and socks. The air was warm and sweet. I could feel spring coming as the clouds, puffy as they were, moved swiftly with very strong but spread out gusts of wind. I lay upon the forest floor ignoring all the itching and racing thoughts until I am centered; speaking only to myself and God, paying close attention to what I think or see behind my eyelids.
"I know who you are medicine man"
I wept, but the wind blew my tears north, beckoning me to arch my neck towards the sun. I know which trees are blowing by sound; after laying down I have found my answers. I sit up and turn towards the city, close my eyes to say a prayer loveliest of them all. When I am alone, with God, I can pray and the words are sophistocated and selfless; like in my poetry. When I was finished I sat upon a fallen tree to watch the sky glaze the mountains. Avoiding the world and home as long as my stomach and bladder will allow me. My shadow walked me home safely, reassuring me of my clarity.
In Christ's name
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