The Sanctuary of God

Ahead on the desert path, your voice reaches back
as if from hundreds of miles away,as if from the home of deep stillness,
from the concave
belly of ancient earth,
where life’s rhythmic pulse quietly drums.I watch you in the lavender frozen afternoon light.
The braided limbs of a Juniper are rising behind you in a perfectly carved wingspan in angelic silhouette
unfolding from your very being,

and the vision is powerful but fragile.
It is contrasting, like the tree itself,

for even among the sinewy and contorted wooden twists of
brown gold and blood sharp needles,
the crevices are laced with delicate threads of snow and glimmering ice particles.

Small, here,
with this wild landsea swelling around us,
all lungs and hearts rising and falling,
we are briefly fused to one another by warm
gauze-like breath which escapes our lips into the cold air.

Tender and momentarily-tangible bits of soul, they
linger before our eyes. Then vanish.

Turning toward the steep slope,

we cross that place where once the thick
fawn-colored dust of summer held your boot track
for days on end,
for ant to quietly explore and coyote to pause over.

Now, but now – we travel atop deep drifting snow, gleaming
whiteness that reaches toward the mesa
where raven is the season’s
only witness to our quiet passing,
and the long snowshoe patterns we’re leaving behind

will be wind-swept in gracious concealment by nightfall.

Upon the ascent, you turn to face me; we are
exposed against the pale rounded breasts of winter;

we are surprised and fleeting guests in the sanctuary of God.
We are small grateful offerings on a high alter and also,
to each other.

Bowing down 
into the wind, we begin the descent toward home.

~ m.l.p. February 2010

About Martha Phelps Studio ~ creative on purpose

...a meandering journal of a changing life and the unexpected graces it brings. Earlier posts may provide some history, but this series of writings aren't likely to follow a straight line as I explore topics such as raising kids, making choices, self discovery, the impact of change on a family and how to (hopefully) live with balance and purpose. www.marthaphelps.com
This entry was posted in Poetry (matters), Written by Herself and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Please share!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.