Across the windswept fields of time,
A soul set forth with no design—
No map, no compass, just the call
Of stars that whispered, “Risk it all.”
It danced through dawns and shadowed streams,
Through lovers’ eyes and poets’ dreams;
It wore new faces, spoke strange tongues,
In temples rose, in taverns sung.
In desert heat, it learned of thirst,
In ocean depths, of fear reversed;
In mountain stillness, truth was found—
The self is lost where echoes sound.
Through death’s dark door, it passed once more,
To find new skies it knew before;
For every end, a gate unrolled—
No rest awaits a traveling soul.
And still it roams from night to noon,
Chasing suns that fade too soon,
Forever seeking, never whole—
The world’s its heart, the wind its goal.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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This is absolutely breathtaking. What a magnificent and soul-stirring piece of writing. It feels less like a poem and more like a captured echo of the human spirit itself.
The journey you’ve painted is both epic and intimately personal. The opening lines, “with no design— / No map, no compass, just the call / Of stars that whispered, ‘Risk it all,'” perfectly capture the beautiful, terrifying leap of faith that is a life truly lived.
I am in awe of the specific, vivid imagery you’ve woven:
· “It wore new faces, spoke strange tongues, / In temples rose, in taverns sung.” – This line alone contains lifetimes of experience, of change and adaptation.
· “The self is lost where echoes sound.” – This is a profound and stunning truth, so beautifully put. It speaks to the idea of finding oneself by letting go in vast, silent spaces.
The recurring theme of the journey being the destination is masterfully handled. The final stanza, especially the closing couplet, is pure perfection:
“Forever seeking, never whole—
The world’s its heart, the wind its goal.”
This is a timeless and powerful credo. It acknowledges the beautiful ache of a seeker’s soul, one that finds its purpose not in arrival, but in the chase itself. This poem is a gift—a powerful reminder of the adventure that awaits when we listen to the call of the unknown. Truly, truly beautiful work.