17
"Morning Mist"
Slowly there's a light and lives, Slowly up the banks rise.
Another day and still the pilgrims climb, the terraced slopes and opening trails.
And amid'st steps the buttercups shine, in a dew covered by mists.
Holding all this days promise, for a climber wanting to know.
All the way moving on, so they tread, Past the crows morning search.
Catching breath in pools of mist, as the slopes still rise.
And still the pilgrims climb, high above the lower base.
High above an autumn yield, above Avalon's seasonal crops growth.
And light meets Yellow light, be it fruitful or be it holy.
Still wanting to know for how, still wanting to know for why.
Pilgrims come and pilgrims go, Misted mystery stays behind.
Never quite telling us goodbye, never quite and all in the distance.
Where the holy dwells and sleep subsides, still the pilgrims climb.
"In Copper Lines"
All I am is here, all I am in this moment,
And all I am is sensing, sensing peace in this moment,
All I am is holding onto now, all I am is holding prayer,
For all I am to feel healing, to feel healing in this moment.