My chariot awaits
like Cinderella’s pumpkin.
But instead of mice
magically turned into horses,
mine is reined by guides
of the spirit kind
— the mystical, coconciousness.
Gently leading me along a path unknown
some doors being swung opened
others slammed shut on their own.
As we swerve past imagined challenges, petty potholes, and roadblocks
I have nary a clue when this chariot would stop.
· · ·
© I. Trudie Palmer
One Love