by Jason Motsch
I hold a trembling leaf in my hand
And with faithful abandon cast it to the wind.
The forge within is shaping the blade
Which is to carve a whole new sculpture
In my soul.
Further along the wooded path
The wind returns the leaf with a gentle gust nestling it in the branches
Of a nearby tree.
My spirit melds with Creation,
and flies to the air above where it
Sings with the birds of the sky.
The terrain below is a patchwork quilt
Of blessings and life.
I see the earthen vessel that has been
carved by the Unfolding- my life, my words,
Tree, forge, wind and dust now mingle
and begin to stitch up wounds godly within.
The throes of birthing pangs give way
to a new life envisioned in the reality of now.
Waters rush through the cascading fires of yesterday
wearing away at the canyon walls and forming new streams
that feed the Ocean Light.
I am a thing of the sea and breath in the liquid like
the holy eucharist of old, inebriated by the blood of Christ.
The mercurial ichor flows deep through the cosmos and I am but a drop
falling endlessly through space and time.
There is a quilt of stars reflecting the earthly foundation below.
And above, beyond, yet still within it all,
Is the nameless, endless, timeless