Walking Out
The rocks molded by your hand
sigh out beauty like psalms.
Brown-gray roots at my feet
hard as the law
are arrows to a deeper call.
Razor edged peaks
divide your truth among clouds.
Some call this a cathedral
a note "God was here"
written in a secret alignment
of pine needles
or boulders seen from the air.
And carnal lovers claim to find
You here
projecting You
as a thing to be found
or a feeling.
But the rocks don't beg for grace
as they crumble.
Trees sip at the light above
and suck deep from dark below
too serene for spiritual paradox.
Mountains stumble through the valley
never dreaming of heaven.
Only my dusty soul searches
outside the comfort of Eden
My traitorous roots
already tucked below in the cool
"It's so green here, stay."
They sing to my limbs to become like them,
anchored, secure,
at home in darkness.
Another oasis in the God-mirage
as I follow ancient footsteps
to the desert.
Nearing the gate
I know ravens will be waiting
black and harsh for those who don't recognize
answers and promises.
Behind me the trees still whisper
a siren song of beauty
content just to be within the verdant walls.
The rocks molded by your hand
sigh out beauty like psalms.
Brown-gray roots at my feet
hard as the law
are arrows to a deeper call.
Razor edged peaks
divide your truth among clouds.
Some call this a cathedral
a note "God was here"
written in a secret alignment
of pine needles
or boulders seen from the air.
And carnal lovers claim to find
You here
projecting You
as a thing to be found
or a feeling.
But the rocks don't beg for grace
as they crumble.
Trees sip at the light above
and suck deep from dark below
too serene for spiritual paradox.
Mountains stumble through the valley
never dreaming of heaven.
Only my dusty soul searches
outside the comfort of Eden
My traitorous roots
already tucked below in the cool
"It's so green here, stay."
They sing to my limbs to become like them,
anchored, secure,
at home in darkness.
Another oasis in the God-mirage
as I follow ancient footsteps
to the desert.
Nearing the gate
I know ravens will be waiting
black and harsh for those who don't recognize
answers and promises.
Behind me the trees still whisper
a siren song of beauty
content just to be within the verdant walls.