Benediction

Oh friend, what

you’ve carried is

so heavy---too heavy.

And how I wish I could

spill a few words or

spell out a blessing

to make it lighter.

I, too, want to touch

the immediacy of

miracle, the sacrament

of feeling something

better is rising, that

every broken twig or

branch is a sign to follow

another sacred path

in search of sacred

stones speaking wisdom.

But what if stone is just

tired and heavy stone?

What if a broken stick

is just a broken stick?

What if the meaning

and the magic unfold

only as we journey

through seasons birthing

seasons while we grow

strong and then fall?

I still believe in slow

grace and the holiness

of what’s gradually

happening inside you.

May you go,

and go, and go---

into this unhurried peace.