There are days I hear the wheels
of this little ore car rolling on the rails
as we descend into the shaft,
deeper, darker, faster— no brakes.
I feel the ship listing,
and distrust the sketchy lifeboats.
I expect the web site gone,
the notice on the library doors,
the dark SUV outside the church,
the knock on the door.
So it matters
to give time to sit with the Silence,
where the world enlarges.
A kind of gravity that minds the whole
holds us all.
We deepen our trust. Earth will go on.
A vast storm front of wisdom
forms off our shore,
a tide that approaches.
A great octopus of kindness
in the deeps unfurls its eight
million arms around us.
It won’t go extinct.
A comet of pure light returns
again and again.
Hope threads its green cord
through us.
A volcano beneath us
makes new worlds.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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