Poem: Ascent 

I walked a road with no clear name,
a quiet thread of silver flame
that pulled me past the weight of form,
beyond the edges of the norm.

At first the path was dim and tight,
a woven maze of wrong and right,
where every step was fear or doubt—
a light within trying to get out.

But then I heard a subtler sound,
a pulse beneath the pulsing ground,
a whisper saying, “You are more
than every mind-made metaphor.”

So I unlearned what I had been,
set down the fences built within,
let silence take me like the tide
and move the noise I used to hide.

Slowly, shadows learned to glow,
the heart began to overflow,
and every stranger, leaf, and star
felt suddenly less far.

At last I saw: the climb was not
toward a peak that could be sought—
the mountain lived inside my chest,
and every breath became the crest.

Higher consciousness, it seems,
is not an end to chase in dreams,
but waking to the truth so near:
the whole of life is happening here.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie