Shadow of Death

He walks in shadows these last days locked in himself where no one can enter. Our expectations to glimpse his visions are futile. This is his travel time; a solo journey, a time for him to gather his history, while in our company, not as companions, as observers. We hang close wishing an awakening where we could discover some function we'd have, where we could partake, where we could provide. We sit here, instead, just being and taking space. We'll have our own solitary journey. His may not be the same, as his life was not the same. He shows us his method, a gift and love surrounds us all with its embrace.