The heavy mist is all around.
Unknown if it comes
down from the sky
or up from the ground.
It fills the landscape.
Everything matches the gray
of the circle of tall stones;
the grass, trees, sky and the body
of a long, gray cloak gliding across
the open park towards me.
I stand with my back leaning
into the massive, upright boulder
feeling my secrets melting into
and blending with the secrets of the rock
kept quiet for centuries.
Vibrations emanate into my bones.
I feel sorrow, mystery.
Low moaning turns into a searing cry
cutting the late afternoon down the middle,
silencing the birds, sending chills up my spine.
As the form slowly moves closer
my body tenses, expectant.
My fingertips vibrate against the stone
warmth flows through me alerting my soul.
The long, gray cloak passes through me
leaving me behind.
(C) Arlene S. Bice, 2009