The Journey.

Above the mountains the Geese turn into the light again.

Painting their black silhouettes on an open sky.

Sometimes everything has to be inscribed across the

                              heavens so you can find the one line written inside of you.

Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright and

                                       indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart.

Sometimes with the bones of the black sticks left when the

                                    fire has gone out someone has written something new 

in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving

You are arriving.

                                                               -David Whyte.