top of page
  • Writer's pictureRoMa Johnson

Tea with a Druid 159

Updated: Apr 15, 2022


I am the map you strive so hard to read. I am the staff conveniently found near the dangerous crossing. I am your boots and the dust on your boots. I am the high breeze bringing ice air from the mountain. I am the castle keep of your destination. I am the coracle upon the fearsome wave. I am the dragon rising from the deep. I am the petrel wheeling. I am your tiny knife, your one drop left of sweetwater against a terrible thirst. I am your sextant as I am your star. I am the dawn in this unfamiliar place. I am the glory paths you see from sun through clouds to streets below. I am the coming rain. I am the night without dreams in a strange bed. Pilgrim, when you return to tell your story, all your tales shall be of me. Even in your loneliness and fear, even as you stop to wipe your brow, I preen in all my dangerous beauty before your eyes. You are my adventure Through Myself.

RoMa Johnson


Recent Posts

See All

Tea with a Druid 178

Rusty My Grandpa had a horse named Rusty. My grandparents lived on homesteaded land in Nebraska and we kids spent summer days on the farm. We were handed an egg sandwich and sent outside in the mornin

Tea with a Druid 151

I am an American. These last days we have been subsumed with prophecy, prognostication, polls, projections, predictions. We have been subjected to forecasts and spreadsheets and odds-making and hand-w


bottom of page