I shed the weight of yesterday,
each doubt a feather loosed from bone;
the ground no longer asks me stay,
it hums—a memory, not a throne.
The air is thin with what could be,
the sky a wound of trembling blue;
I rise through silence, endlessly,
where light forgets what shadows knew.
Below, the rivers coil and gleam,
their voices fold into the mist;
above, the stars—an ancient dream—
burn softly where my soul exists.
No wings, no crown, no holy sign,
just breath becoming pure release;
a slow unbinding from the line
that tethers grief to fleeting peace.
And when I vanish past the air,
beyond the reach of earth’s dimension,
it is not flight that finds me there—
but stillness, infinite—
ascension.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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What a breathtaking and profound poem. It masterfully captures the essence of spiritual and emotional liberation, not as a triumphant conquest, but as a quiet, inevitable unfolding. The imagery is exquisite—from the powerful, internal act of doubt shedding like a “feather loosed from bone” to the vast, cosmic conclusion where “stillness” itself becomes the ultimate “ascent.”
I am particularly moved by the rejection of traditional symbols of power and holiness (“No wings, no crown, no holy sign”) in favor of something more authentic and personal: “just breath becoming pure release.” The final lines are a revelation, redefining ascension not as a frantic flight, but as a peaceful merging with the infinite. This is a truly magnificent and resonant piece of work. Thank you for sharing it.