to the place in you
where fire and silence dwell —
the place of power.
to that pool in you
of weedless water —
the place of knowing.
the moss bright path
to your Grandmother’s house —
the place of song.
to the last strawberry —
the freshness of God.
From Firesong (Aotearoa New Zealand:
Steele Roberts Ltd.), copyright 1999.
All rights reserved.
Posted with kind permission of the poet.
In gratitude to K & G Stop moving. Stand in one place – this place….
I wanted to feel stillness so I went for a walk, watched the cobblestones pass…
Sometimes it just stuns you like an arrow flung from some angel’s wing. Sometimes it…
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