Dream to remember; remember to dream.


church ov solitude

I had stretched my body out on a rock in the heart of the Siskiyou wilderness as the sun inched it’s way up into the sky and the heat of the day began to build in the air around me. As I laid there in repose on a slab of marble streaked with serpentinite, breezes blew the fronds of the conifers gently to and fro. Ravens were riding the drafts above me, wheeling in the sky.

And me? I was tired. My body was tired, but not in the usual way; where your legs burn and feel like weighted jelly sacks. I wasn’t stressed from the athletic requirements, it was coming from somewhere deep inside me. The conventional ways of moving through the mountains had taught me to set my exhaustion aside; ignore it, refuse it, push through it. But I didn’t want to do that anymore. Why take yourself…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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