by Steve Tanham
You may come this way a thousand times
And sense that space of place unfold
But it will never speak to you
Until your will is mine
—
Or watch your boots leave prints
A lifetime long
But they will never lead to you
Until your will is mine
—
Or trace the rising sun
Through trees that hiss and leaves that turn
But their eternal fragrance will a mystery stay
Until your will is mine
—
So, stop and seize this gifted morn
Where Winter light warms colder skin
Then give to me the life not yours
And let your will, embraced, be mine…
©Copyright image and verse Stephen Tanham 2017.
Sun in Gemini 
This is beautiful Steve. And I love your photo. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. A rare moment in the forest nearby. Then the key line haunted me for the rest of the walk!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It happens like that sometimes. I loved our walks in the woods.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely beautiful. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why, thank you, Victo.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for the reblog, Jaye.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The words and the image will probably haunt me for a while too…thanks for improving my day, Steve…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jaye. Lovely comment.
LikeLiked by 1 person