Walking under stars tonight I stumble
Where old knowing seeps through dirt and rock
My feet blessed somehow on this holy patch
Where folks before me dropped down praying
Morning sun cracks through these branches
Making dewdrops shine like tiny wishes
Far off those church bells keep ringing
Pulling wanderers up some heavenly staircase
My spirit stretches past what I can touch
Wired into everything that ever was
My breathing builds a bridge between two worlds
While stillness talks straight to whatever I am
Mercy grows wild in purple flower fields
Where sacred water scrubs the hurt away
Every living thing sings that same tune
About love moving free through all of this
Meeting the Divine in this moment
I see myself finally without pretense
A cup waiting to hold whatever light comes
When my small self gets small and Spirit calls
Coming home starts right here in my chest
Where calm lives on and on burning bright
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Tim is an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. He writes about rural life, family, and the places he grew up around. His poetry and essays have appeared in Bloodroot and Coal Dust, his latest book.



Comments (1)
What a beautiful and inspiring piece. I love the imagery.