On a precipice I am
listening to a bow
against string.
Up here,
touching rock and wind,
I am hidden
in contemplation
soaked
in gossamer air.
If only to glimpse
life again!
Far and wholly away
from ruck and wave
and question.
listening to a bow
against string.
Up here,
touching rock and wind,
I am hidden
in contemplation
soaked
in gossamer air.
If only to glimpse
life again!
Far and wholly away
from ruck and wave
and question.
1 comment:
Where one once walked on water
can you dare to tread the air?
A gentle breeze this
no mighty storm
And yet
when the treetops sink
beneath your feet
Will you not also call
to One who is near?
Perhaps there is no other way
to fly
Post a Comment