My favorite image when I hear the term “Hippie” begins with a Volkswagon van pulled off the road of a lost Oregon path.
Three souls gathered around a small smoldering fire and before them, sings a speckled blue coffee pot perc’ing it’s song to the valley below.
A whole world lies still and humming. Cracking the fire watches and Smoke begins to dance into the tree rafts. As the stars create the flickering backdrop to frame this tender scene.
“What do you think it means?” she asked the moon.
“Why do you suppose we are here?” he asked the ember’s glow.
“I don’t know. But maybe it’s a sign to go?” it said to the All.
Whirling into the breeze the drifting minds of sleepy sums discoursed the fallen day to it’s dawn. The roads the lead them here had been lost in the night, but now return with kind familiarity. Dusted in dew, naked the new yew stretches her hands wide in awakening ways to start of this long and beautiful view.
The light troden home of mind over matter and it’s little pleasures, comforts, and kindling have been cleaned, packed, and strapped back into their wholesome house. Ready now for the roads to go as the river has paved. Friendship and Love has filled the voyage with vagabonds of homes that no one knows.
Today has begun. Yesterday is done. Slowly and in form to the peaceful pace made along the way, these three stolen few disappear before you. The smoky mirage has faded into happy little clouds of grey. The world looms beneath a rising sight of the solar and stellar place from which we’ve turned our face.
Here we smile. And we wait.