Hanging Lake

Between the walls
of the canyon
my eyes widened
and found
a fairy land
of moss, trees,
snow and magic
leading to the lake.

The path led up.

It was arduous
and full of ice,
making each step a
precious, slow journey -
slipping, slipping.

I wanted to go back.

But you encouraged me
with your sure feet,
steady eyes and
heart that sees
beauty lying
beyond the burden.

We made it up the mountain.

We arrived
at a city of ice
over clear water
and became
welcomed ones,
whispered to
for a year and a day.

All was well. Is well. Is.

Our bones knew
and accepted this blessing.
We drank it in
with our deepening
appreciation
of the other's mystery.

Then we welcomed the others.

And the descent
which always comes,
but this time was
sliding and falling,
laughter and
conquered fears.