Valley to valley,
shapeshifting sands,
mountains slipping down
and through my hands,
peak mirages
yet they block my view,
do not permit ascent
from the shadows
to vistas of truth,
yet I knew
beyond the traps and setbacks,
somewhere out there
was a billowing mast
and endless skies of blue
and a sail or cloud or both
to take me away to where I knew
my hopes as harbingers
had successfully found
the place where all my dreams
come true:
mid-ocean,
where I crossed paths
with you.
Laura Denise 
So wild! I was just reading about Harbingers as butterfly food in Barbara Kingsolver’s “Flight Behavior.”
Ironic
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very ironic. I had trouble titling this for some reason; that’s never happened before. So I asked a loved one to. 🙂
LikeLike
A lovely image matched by beautiful words!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tone. High compliments coming from you. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL, thanks, well deserved though 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice contrast of soft golden sky to textured gray foreground.
LikeLike