By Ken Woodley
“Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea”
My desert feelings can’t remember the flat line of their own horizons
and my valleys of shadow recall nothing
the darkness ever said to them.
I awake to an inexplicable altitude
and the music of the last voice I heard
before I woke up
echoing off vertical feelings that cover me
like the sunshine after it has lifted mist.
The answer surrounds me, like the smell of coffee.
I yawn and stretch into the passing shapes of clouds
that seem to know just where they are going.
My peaks are everywhere.
At the end of a day’s climb
I stand upon the ridge of all that I have ever known.
The air is thin and bright.
I breathe as deeply as I can,
only to exhale in surprise.
A harmony beyond the sky has filled the deepest,
the everest part of me
and no matter where I look
I know the melody will go on forever
if only this afternoon
I can remember to memorize the tune God has just sung to me
and bring the mountaintop home.
Again last night I was certain that I never could
but tomorrow—once more—I believe I shall
remember one more note at least and this:
No matter what happens next
every note of the melody remembers every note of me,
even those that I have never heard,
the ones I must believe in enough to discover for myself
and then sing to my deserts and my valleys.
By Ken Woodley
3 thoughts on “Himalayan Morning”
Well said. During these challenging times there are many hills and valleys. God is in charge, and as giving birth is painful so is
Social change. No Democracy has survived to date. Let us pray as we are being created we will change those stats and our birthing will be completed.
This is inexplicably beautiful and unknowing and yet all knowing. Thank you!!
Thank you for being on this journey together, John, Ken