SACRED COMPASS
Wind in my face brings solace
to my soul, as I stand
at the portal to a sacred world.
Ready to journey upward
where blood red sunsets
signal the desires
of my heart to fly.
Birds on wing take final spins
before indigo darkness
sets them to rest.
Their soaring flights
ignite my imagination
giving birth to windswept dreams.
A weathervane detects
my heart’s movements
but cannot reveal
the depth of my emotion,
just as a conductor leads
an orchestra, yet he never stirs
Wind in my face brings solace
to my soul, as I stand
at the portal to a sacred world.
Ready to journey upward
where blood red sunsets
signal the desires
of my heart to fly.
Birds on wing take final spins
before indigo darkness
sets them to rest.
Their soaring flights
ignite my imagination
giving birth to windswept dreams.
A weathervane detects
my heart’s movements
but cannot reveal
the depth of my emotion,
just as a conductor leads
an orchestra, yet he never stirs
our soul like a single,
haunting oboe.
A mapless journey reveals a new path,
so I move where I am led,
trusting my heart to take me
to the place where I can test
my wings against the wind,
always mindful of
the sacred compass.
haunting oboe.
A mapless journey reveals a new path,
so I move where I am led,
trusting my heart to take me
to the place where I can test
my wings against the wind,
always mindful of
the sacred compass.
(poem inspired by photo taken by and used with permission of
Christine Valters Paintner at www.abbeyofthearts.com
- come join the Poetry Party there every other Monday)
1 Comments:
Rich, I love the image "portals to a sacred world" and the single haunting oboe that speaks to us more deeply than all the unified voices. Blessings on the mapless journey and thank you as always for freely sharing your poetic gifts!
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