It started one day,
as I stopped to listen.
All silence had swayed,
old memories glistened.
Remembering times,
my own hands had buried.
Reliving the climbs,
with anchors I carried.
A basket of goals,
led me to my escape.
Mending scary holes,
new beginnings undraped.
Given directions,
inner guides have been found.
Lost in reflections,
to awaken by sound.
– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy
Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What do you see #134 May 16, 2022