Their inward rivers have surged too
strong for this familiar dale, their
currents coursing outward to broader
valleys and farther seas.
Being is an empty absolute, for now is
to do, to task, to venture on the
who they will become. We send them
wrapped in prayers with songlines
from our brighter dreams. We
fly our flags unfurled and
keep our fears to burn in our own
fires. Though breaking hard
on grief we wait as they ascend the
mountain ‘lone to drink from
ancient headwaters and quest along the
sacred, dangerous places.
God is asking much of us, so
we summon our faith with
hope they learn to live alongside the
wolf we call this beautiful world.
Only then will they draw their
sustenance from the vernal spring that
flows of both the minerals and the
spirits, the earth and the sky.
That is what this work of love is for.