Healing Magic

This barrel of grief
once...hollow...black...without floor or perch
frighten me a little less
with each rung of the climbing out

I am a traveler
exhausted and weary
still navigating those same familiar roads
gazing upon splendid vistas
a gift of lanterns lights my way
opalescent pearls and magic beads illuminate the pale dawns

When I stumble on new roads
my dress is rimmed with mystic dust
so, i walk a little slower
no need to hurry this journey

Sweet temptation beckons
beneath this stranger's saucy smile
i bend like a willow
to show a fellow traveler
the grace of my limbs and
the recognition in my eyes

this has the makings of healing magic....