Image: Gomyanmartours
When I turn toward, you show me the way. Never without an open path upon which to walk. You guide. I follow. I’ve called out in times when the road seemed to wind, nauseating twists leading me there through the valley that the peak might be found. I live there atop the mountain, feet dangling.
Air-mid.
Suspended between the pottery and the clay. I’ve been molded and shaped. I’ve been shifted and transformed. I’ve been made whole out of the fragments of pieces of me. Whole. It’s been missing. Nothing. Stone like cement making permanent wise decisions. I’ve decided and undecided time and time again and you’ve freed me from the unknown that I might know.
Better.
You remain there for me. A breeze through time and space that my inhale does not go dry. You wet wide the whistle that sound might fill me. I hear. I’ve heard. It is the sound of music.
Filed under: change, chant, evolution, life journey, Meditation, music, poetry, Prayer, Spirituality, Uncategorized, words, writing Tagged: change, chant, evolution, journey, life journey, meditation, music, poetry, practice, prayer, spirituality, transformation
