Light rises
from the bare hillside
where prayers were sown
in the body
that fell into the earth of light.
The soil knows how to do this.
A blackbird cloaked like a priest
watches from a bare branch
without a word,
without a thought.
After a while it lifts, departs.
You, too, go home
and lay your body down,
and come again later.
Like water
the word passes between the silences.
Friend, the moment the seeds left your hand
you were raised.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:
Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 0:49 — 1.1MB)