From this silence so well constructed
I wonder off, into tomorrow.
bending like a willow
trying to touch a world unhatched,
this impossible, of my imagination.

i am the intimacy of faith
I am the grandeur of loneliness.
I am the worthiness;
-that which is kept buried beneath the wounds of my stories.

Sometimes everything has to be studied
knowing somehow this sitting here
not enough.

this knowing the fierce walking
like pilgrims through the darkness.
Knowing we've traveled inside everyone.

Feeling the grief; the joys.
I want to know
no more traveling on the wings of fear and hope.
but sit by the fire of living
no longer dying to what could have been
or even what will be.

But finding my place in the things that are;
some mystery presented
some grace
some bit of mercy
miraculously lived.

So let this listening
Somewhere beneath the granite shelves of the earth
where the sweet waters, lie in wait.
To be tapped to give life back to itself.

This basic goodness
this first step home
gives you back to yourself
the heart flowing with each encounter
a mind pliable; moving like the sweet stream
from that deep down listening .

I am awake
as the world calls in its pungent need to change me.
I move into it -- with it.