A treasure map upon the table,
Yet fantasy is but a fable.
Only one bag I choose to take.
“Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake.”
The seasons melt from winter to spring.

Fresh, vibrant saplings, what a beautiful thing.

God’s breath wisps over the open plain.
A palette of new flowers, for warm sunlight they strain.
My heart drums a uniform beat.
Spring green fades into summer heat.
The rock on which I scale is wide and long.
I climb and cast away doubt in joyous song.
“Read the best books first or you may not have time to read them all.”
Enjoy the face before worrying about the fall.
Time descends into a crisp, cool season.
Golden leaves flutter away from their home, God has a reason.
Autumn bliss crumbles once again to snow.
Glitter rains from the clouds so low.
Pure, white flakes blanket the ground.
A doe wanders the forest without a sound.
The journey has been the treasure.
I can remember for good measure.
“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams.”
“Live the life you imagined,” don’t cut the seams.