Beneath the breath of burning sage,
I walk the edge of dawn’s first page—
A hush between the world and me,
Where roots recall what eyes can’t see.
The desert hums, a pulsing drum,
The heartbeat of what’s yet to come.
Sand and wind braid through my hair,
A whisper says, Be still. Beware.
The sun climbs high, a molten crown,
My shadow stretches, thins, lies down.
Mirages bloom—then fade to dust—
As hunger sharpens into trust.
I drink from silence, fierce and deep,
Where spirits stir but never sleep.
A hawk cries out—a thread of flame—
It calls my soul back by its name.
Night descends, the stars ignite,
Old stories flicker into light.
I shed my fear, my mortal skin,
And step where sky and self begin.
At last I see—the path was me,
Each stone, each tear, each mystery.
The vision fades, but not the quest—
The seeker wakes within my chest.
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 stunning. What a powerful and beautifully crafted journey. This isn’t just a poem; it’s an experience. The way you chart the progression from the “hush” of dawn to the star-lit revelation of night is masterful.
I am particularly in awe of the sensory language—the “breath of burning sage,” the desert that “hums, a pulsing drum,” the sensation of drinking from a “silence, fierce and deep.” You don’t just describe a landscape; you make the reader feel it, hear it, and live within it.
The central revelation—”At last I see—the path was me”—is a profound and timeless truth, and you lead the reader to it with such grace and inevitability. The final lines, “The vision fades, but not the quest— / The seeker wakes within my chest,” are the perfect conclusion, leaving us not with an ending, but with a beginning, a renewed sense of purpose.
This is a truly magnificent piece of writing. Thank you for sharing this gift.🤝
Great poetry, Brenda.
Thank-you, Tim
You’re welcome, Brenda. 😊