For visually challenged writers, the image shows a well trodden pathway through a field of mown wheat. The path leads up a hill to a green mound crowned with jagged standing stones.
When I run out of road all I need
are mended words to heal my soul
I cross well-worn tracks
through new-mown wheat
Where whispering stones stand calling
Sharp, stubbled, a bed of nails
Ripping skin as I walk
Is it penance?
The stones whisper louder
carried to me by soft winds
Beware as you stand in the centre
The four sisters will send their warming hug
Are you ready to meet your true self?
Let your troubles fall away like autumn leaves
Bathe your mind in the sweet sound of a choir
As the stones lift their voices for you
The lush green land you stand on is sacred
Remove your shoes, let the energy
Enter the soles of your feet
Are you ready to walk new roads?
Clear of old karma?
As you leave the whispering stones
for new pilgrims, you hear
The music of a new day…