I do not see the river. Or hear it. Or smell it.
It is dark where I am, the ground hard and scrabbly under foot, the sky blanked by cloud. I do not even know which direction to walk in. I don’t know how to go. So I sit.
I long for the Ferryman, but do not call out for him, have no voice for calling. I long for the Ferryman and find a gift in my hand, a small river rock, smooth and cool. I fold my fingers over it. I am flooded with courage.
I will sit and learn whatever it is this darkness will teach me.
OOO
dream stories 
This is beautiful. So often it is uncomfortable to sit in the darkness, but here you create the darkness to be so inviting and inspiring…even courageous. I saw a comment you wrote on creativespiritualwoman.com, and you mentioned a prayer of healing that spoke to me, which lead me here. I am grateful for discovering your messages. Blessings on your journey, Erin, Bella Bleue
Erin, Bella Bleue. Such loveliness in a name. I am glad to have you with me on the journey. Welcome!
-lbk