The cool velvet of grass has turned to jagged shards of stone
And my feet stumble on the uneven ground.
Where wildflowers once danced by ambling streams of crystal waters
There now lies a vast emptiness of arid sand and staggered skeletons of dead trees.
They loom ahead, dread guardians of the path before me,
Beckoning me forward yet barring my way.
The laughter of my travel companions fades away on a breath of wind
Until the only sound I hear is the measured beat of my fragmented heart,
Keeping time for the low, mournful song of a lonely owl
Perched on the corpse-like arms of one of the arboreal cadavers.
I glance behind to see the smooth, empty road from whence I’ve come dissolve in a blur of emerald and gold.
No going back. Keep calm and carry on.
Led here by the Spirit of the Holy One to be processed and purged
Of the thousand and one splinters that riddle my heart like bullets from a smoking gun.
Fragments and figments of a life long since passed that have been left to fester,
The tattered shroud twitched away by an unseen hand to expose the wounds to Sonlight.
That is what the wilderness is for; come to the place of isolation and death to be received, revived and restored.
On the other side of this barren wasteland lies the fertile realm of truth, identity, and purpose.
My feet protest the urging of my mind to shuffle forward onto this solitary course,
But a gentle hand grips my own trembling fingers, and a soft voice whispers in my ear,
“Trust Me to lead the way.”
And just like that, the icy fear gripping my heart melts into a warm flood of hope
That courses through every synapse, steeling my nerves for the journey to come.
One more step takes me over the edge and into the wild.
I bow my head, and my heart whispers softly,
“Let the process begin…”
A Time For All Things 