Slow Burn

Forward momentum shuffles desire from conceptual states to real; the leaves on the boughs glow with autumnal fire, drift down to the carpet of grass. In times of transition a slow burn proceeds until spring bears the fruit of rebirth; the gestate of feelings trickles and bleeds like rainbows of oil upon glass. Steps beget steps and before one knows the travel of vision begins, traces of footprints on virginal snows follow the dreams to the lair. Walk slow beside me, holding my hand, patiently keeping my faith; perhaps we will see from the place where we stand how we made it from here to there.