by Juliette Willows
The twisted, evergreen corridor curls like ribbons through
hills and valleys
Scarred bedrock, moss-covered, jagged;
I've seen it before, in different times - when the snow flies...
tears of the sky clinging to its wounds like frozen waterfalls,
like a child to its mother
A heavy, silver-smoke blanket envelops me, shifting, turning, churning,
like lovers writhing beneath satin sheets in a lustful dance
And Gaia cries, the Queen's lace adorning her shoulders in
delicate, fragile sweeps
The mist rises like smoke from the depths; ghosts dancing to an
ancient drumbeat, to the rhythm of the tears
She sighs, and with her breath, the velvet blanket parts,
revealing the light, the bright,
and she leads me home.
Juliette Willows is an author, self-love advocate, personal growth addict, and flower-child wannabe with a rebel heart. She's an entrepreneur, a seeker of the simple life, and dream-chaser extraordinaire. You'll often find her lost in the depths of her own imagination, silently conjuring magical worlds and secretly wishing they were real. Hailing from the land of the overly apologetic, she's a Northern girl through and through.