Footsteps

Footsteps through a mountain meadow
Lead into a peaceful glen
Where deer graze and chipmunks play
In and around the trees

Blue turns to grey and cold comes the water
Darkening skies and flashes
Rumbling loudly through the canyons
And the footsteps are washed away

The darkness travels on
Perhaps running errands of its own
To distant areas yet untouched
By its harsh uncaring fingers of fire

Light returns to the mountain meadow
Peace returns to the glen
Soon the deer return to graze and the chipmunks play
In and around the trees

And footsteps lead away
In the direction from whence they came
Slowly, unwillingly they plot their course
Back down to reality