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Screensize: 640 x 480 800 x 600 1024 x 768 1280 x 1024 UserName: Password: Format Mode: Basic  Help  Prompt  Format: Font Andale Mono Arial Arial Black Book Antiqua Century Gothic Comic Sans MS Courier New Georgia Impact Lucida Console Script MT Bold Stencil Tahoma Times New Roman Trebuchet MS Verdana   Size 1 2 3 4 5 6   Color Black Red Yellow Pink Green Orange Purple Blue Beige Brown Teal Navy Maroon LimeGreen Message: * HTML is OFF * Forum Code is ON Smilies After the Fiesta, with the little town and my family dead, I need to be alone... I ride North and East for many days Where to be October means something. Where I ran and fished and hunted As a child and learned the ways Of the woods and of the Great One. The trees are aflame in their private moondance of fire. Against the blue of the Hudson River Reflecting the cliff face of Storm King, It plays the illusion the Old Ones called Riverdeep mountainhigh. There is and will be another story for each of us. The long golden tale of each precious life. Some filled with love, Some filled with loss, Mostly a measure of both. Every turn in the river Takes the story to a new place. Some we choose and some are chosen for us. But, we are each of us even Now, immortal. Whether to Heaven or Hell eventually, our spirits will All be Forever... That choice is always ours and ours alone... How dim sometimes the Light we follow seems. But when we get out from the towns and their false glow that Robs our vision; Out under nothing but the sky and His face, Our eyes will again divine the light and The path thru the forest will shine like the Sun. I smile to think of my past families, Now gone on high, that walked this riverbank With me so long ago. They were so like the October trees, Aflame and dancing with color and Great beauty just before their private Winter came and turned them gray. In the creeping darkness, I whisper a prayer That they would greet me in the spring As the trees will, Reborn and ready For another fling around the dance floor.