Learning to Walk


I walk
one step, then another
through holy golden light
and all I can say
is oh. my. God. Because there is
no way anything
other than a divine, maker-of-miracles
could have made all this

wings swoop
out of dried blackberry bush, trees give
and give and give, never asking
for a thing back - single
red leaf, rock pounded smooth
from wild sea. Eyes
that look back

all this, yet I hang my
head, asking again and again
if there is God, purpose -- reason
I ask as I rush past

this undeniable holy.

Still -- ground
holds me. In every moment, whether I stand
or kneel on bruised knees, whether awake or asleep
whether I laugh or weep -- faithful ground
holds the too too
too of me

if all this doesn't call
forth the treasures
I don't know
what will.

Then, a gust rises from
that buried deep place --
and says:

How about this, how about you
toss the holy around as if there is no
end, no way,
no lack -- no empty. Because there
just isn't. How about you stop trying

to squeeze
this holy inside words or reasons. Just lift
your head, my love
and walk

Julia's home on the web is
Photo found HERE