Calling On Powers

Calling On Powers

From behind the stones,
the mossy cairn we built near
the path to the spring,
from there the light shall
begin to shine, there shall change
our ghostly trudge from
bat cave dim, dismal
low dirge to seedling colors,
to demanding sounds
of newborn bright birds
with their complete right to be
alive in this place.

I strike these words like bronze bells.
They ring beyond our bindings.

May 6, 2010 3:16 AM

There is something here, is there not? This is the voice of a man, or a woman, who stands in the light unafraid to face the Divine. This is the voice of one who is accepted both in that stance and in that place. Such a possibility arises in twofold streams of experience - from the stream of decisions and from the stream of practices.

Baby Ospreys