The Moon in the World

The moon is in a mid autumn sky looking down on the world.
Its glow is lighting the dim valley floor, a soft breeze is blowing as the grass waves to the stars, as in thanks for watching over them.
You feel the pull and the warmth of the moon as it gently soothes the soul.
The feeling of being drawn by the pull of the heavenly body is subtle yet constant.
As the many feel not of it, it is but too wonder as to why.
As life is changed for the effects of the love it gives and the great power it has to rule over the tides of life its self, we wander in its midst and only a few ever know the true nature of its being.
To travel through life and not to know the wonders of the power is a shame.
To think of all the joys of life that are missed in its passing, to have missed the feeling of love and not even knowing you've missed it is the greatest loss of all.

writen by,

Mark A. Von Torne

The Storm

The sun is slowly setting, the clouds roll in over the hilltops, and the rain starts to fall gently down. All life in the forest prepares for the anger of the winter storm as it starts its life in the valley. The crack of thunder echoes through the trees from the lightning off in the distance. The wind howls as if a warning of what is to come.
As the winds blow from the south, the hawk that is my soul watcher sits poised, she is watching over me guarding me. Her ever watching presence keeping me safe from harm.

The gods have placed her to watch over my life to guide my path and to ensure the encroachment of evil is held at bay. At the sunsets the changing of the guard takes place the hawk retires and the night owl assumes her role.
As we lay awake in bed and the rain falls on the world the crackle of the fireplace is a warm comfort that lets us know the storm will pass as we are in the safety of our home.

The rain runs off the trees and hits the roof in drops of that seem to last forever. As the drops land and begin to gather together and form yet larger ones that start to run in small streams like the passing of time.

The passing of time is like the ink on the pages of the book of my life the next not to be known the last never to be re-lived.
The rain-washes the day away like it's clearing the pages of my book of life.
With fire that burns and gives warmth I drift off to sleep and the dream keeper guides me to her land, in this land of dream I see the sun shining through the canopy of trees that cover the forest floor.
The song of the birds is all about. A soft breeze is gently blowing through the leaves. As I stand in a clearing that has many choices in which to travel. I see a tree and she tells me her story of life. She says to the sun, I stand in the midst of your light it feeds my out stretched arms to grasp all that you are so willing to give. You give so I may live and share what I receive with others.
The power that is taken from your blessing is returned in my life.
I provide a canopy of shelter for all that come to pass, I turn your life to the ground and in return feed of the rich soil. The fruit I give is nutrition for all that are willing to take, all that is not taken is returned to the ground.

I think of the path of my life, the many turns that have come, the forks that I've come across, and the choices that I've made. Only one thing holds to be true, that we all have the choice of which path to follow and to see that we have many. We may come from different ways of life and off other paths but we will all end up in the same clearing and we will meet each other as equals.
I awaken and think of all that was and ponder the what will be, I know it is not of my doing to set the of passing of time, only to insure that I follow the road that will be revealed.

writen by,

Mark A. Von Torne