echoes in the cave, 9
i was home among the peaks,
the trails, the rocks.
home feels hard,
when even at home, things fall.
and yet home is still calling,
some inward, upward pull.
despite gravity’s wishes,
some deep outward draw,
opposing shame’s kisses.
we’re still moving homeward,
even when home feels lost.
slipped between clinging grasps,
from assumed trail tossed.
glimpses seem fragile,
steps feel far.
home is still there,
a place for me held.
the mountains cast shadows,
shift weather patterns.
looming and towering above,
to watch, whether or not i see.
awe inducing power,
shaking life within.
yet compelling invitation,
stirring beauty and life again.
my home is not in the valley,
although there i might be found.
it’s for the peaks my soul longs,
for the sacred to compound.
from the journal, 7/27/26